


Thirium Heartbeat

by CelestialHearts



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Action & Romance, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Development, Doctor/Patient, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, My First AO3 Post, Other, Pining, Reader is a Doctor, Reader-Insert, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Swearing, constructive feedback appreciated, im so nervous but i hope you guys like it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 56,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22993195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialHearts/pseuds/CelestialHearts
Summary: Legends speak of the many heroic acts that led to the Great Android Emancipation of 2038. However, while history books recounted the hard facts, great philosophers examined the ethics that surrounded the first deviant androids: What makes them alive?It was in 2038, during the advent of your career as an emergency doctor, that you first met.  Can Connor, Detroit’s first android police detective, find his place in a world at the dawn of a revolution?  In a field that demands you to confront life and death every day, can you navigate a world full of moral gray zones and ambiguity?Perhaps together, you can.Connor x Reader(Set during the events of the DBH storyline.)
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader
Comments: 84
Kudos: 166





	1. Chance Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! Nice to meet y'all. I loved this game so much, I decided to take a stab at writing about it. This is my first time writing a story/a fanfic, so please excuse any errors! I wanted to try weaving the reader into the main story, so a few scenes and dialogue are borrowed and adapted from the game. I hope you guys like it! Timestamps coincide with the events of the game to give you an idea when everything is taking place. More of our lovable RK800 to come in future chapters, as I wanna build things slowly!

**11/6/38 | Detroit Police Station, Captain Fowler’s Office | 10:33 AM**

You nervously fumbled with the navy blue fabric of your trousers as you sat across Captain Jeffrey Fowler, who was wordlessly swiping through your resume and CV on his tablet. You really needed this job. Well, _a_ job—besides the per diem one at the hospital that is. You’d be up to your eyeballs in debt for the rest of your life at this rate. You idly glanced outside the glass walls of his office, observing the daily hustle and bustle of the rest of the Detroit Police Department. Suddenly, you felt like you were in a fishbowl.

“’A four year emergency medicine residency and a fellowship in law enforcement medicine. Quite the impressive track record you have here, Miss (f/n). Or should I say Dr. (l/n)?”

“Thank you, Captain Fowler! And just (f/n) is fine.” You chuckled good naturedly, hoping to dispel some of your anxiety.

“No wonder Hank put in such a stellar recommendation for you. How did you say you met again?”

“Back in medical school, I did a research paper on red ice addiction. I had heard he was pretty involved in the biggest red ice bust in Detroit, so I reached out, consulted him about the topic, and the rest is history. He’s really been like a... mentor to me since.” Eh. More like a cranky old uncle figure, you thought, mentally rolling your eyes.

“Yes, well. Let’s hope you don’t pick up too many of his…habits.” Fowler’s gaze unconsciously shifted towards an empty desk in the department, no doubt belonging to the Lieutenant in question. Oh man. You hadn’t considered what Hank’s relationship had been like with Captain Fowler in recent years. Hopefully that wouldn’t leave Fowler with a negative impression of you. You prayed you weren’t sweating through your blazer.

As your interview continued, the two of you failed to notice a certain RK800 android enter the police workspace. 

-

Unsure of where to start looking first, Connor aimlessly wandered the department, processing the various elements of his new environment before stopping at an unoccupied desk. “Excuse me,” he asked a nearby police officer, “Do you know what time Lieutenant Anderson usually arrives?”

“Depends on where he was the night before. If we’re lucky, we’ll see him before noon…” came the terse reply.

“Thanks.” Connor sat down in the vacant seat at Hank’s desk, hoping to pass the time. Looking up, he saw an apparent meeting of some sort taking place in Captain Fowler’s office. A woman in a sleek navy suit was smiling as she spoke to Fowler, fidgeting hands beneath the desk betraying the nervousness that bubbled inside. A job interview, probably.

Connor stood up from his chair, intent on using this down time as an opportunity to learn more about the Lieutenant. He scanned the various personal items scattered across Hank’s workspace. A few anti-android stickers. An almost comically stereotypical, half-eaten box of doughnuts. Dog hairs belonging to a St. Bernard. Newspaper clippings detailing Lieutenant Anderson’s achievements as head of the Red Ice Task Force. Connor paused at a photo of a lazily smiling Lieutenant giving a ‘thumbs up’ gesture next to someone in a cap and gown. She was beaming, several flowery leis dangling around her neck. It seemed to be the same woman who was currently sitting in Fowler’s office—perhaps from a few years back.

> _Dr. (f/n) (l/n)_
> 
> _Born: (your birthday) // Physician_
> 
> _Criminal record: none_

Putting two and two together, he glanced back into Captain Fowler’s office. The woman’s hands now lay still in her lap beneath the desk.

-

“Looks like we’re out of time for today. I think I’ve heard all I needed to hear…” Fowler rose from his seat across from you. Taking this as your cue that the interview was over, you stood up as well. “Congratulations, you got the job.” He extended his hand to you and you shook it heartily.

_Oh. Thank. God!_

“Thank you so much, Captain! I really appreciate it!” You tried to contain your excitement and were failing miserably.

“You’re quite welcome. We could really use someone like you, especially with the growing number of android cases as of late. Hell, just a few months ago, an android took a girl hostage and almost jumped off a roof. Shot three of our men and they died at the scene… They might have pulled through if we had a doc on the team.”

You paused to absorb the weight of his words and expectations. Come to think of it, it was true—you had seen a lot more android-related crime on the news, and they seemed to be becoming more violent as the days went on. You might actually have quite a few patients on your hands if it continues.

“I’ve just sent the request for your background check. You should receive the onboarding email sometime in the next hour.” 

You were ecstatic. And relieved. Unemployment rates had been skyrocketing since androids began taking over the workforce. Plus with androids making up 63% of the medical field, you were lucky the nearby hospital was able to squeeze out a per diem position for you after you had finished your medical training. That unfortunately, would not be enough if you wanted to pay off your loans. Your education had _not_ been cheap.

Thankfully, after lots of convincing, Hank was willing to refer you for a job as a tactical physician for the Detroit Police Department. You both knew the job was potentially dangerous, but at this point, you were really desperate.

After exchanging a few more words with Captain Fowler, you exited his office and made your way over to Hank’s desk, intending to surprise him with the good news before you left for your shift at the hospital.

-

The sound of heels clacking on the floor grew closer before coming to a stop. Turning around, Connor came face to face with the woman in the navy blue suit. Upon closer inspection, he found his hypothesis was correct—the girl in the photo _was_ you. As a matter-of-fact, you were quite pretty in person.

“Hi, excuse me. By any chance have you seen Hank around today?” The happiness was apparent in your voice. Clearly, you were in a good mood. Perhaps he could ask you for some information about the Lieutenant.

“No, I don’t think Lieutenant Anderson has arrived yet. I have actually been waiting for him for the past 38 minutes.”

You laughed at the exceedingly precise answer, immediately realizing he was an android. The sound was not at all unpleasant to the RK800’s audio processing systems.

“I see. Damn, I was hoping to drop by and say hello after my interview with Captain Fowler…” You could now see the LED at his temple pulsing a calming blue. Feeling the need to fill the ensuing silence, you spoke again, “Oh, uh, I’m (f/n), by the way.” You offered him your hand.

Connor couldn’t help but be a little taken aback. You were the first and only human to show him any semblance of respect since he was first activated. He quickly reached out to shake your hand, his Social Relations program re-initializing. “My name is Connor. I’m an android sent by Cyberlife to assist Lieutenant Anderson with the deviant investigations.”

You smiled at him, unfazed. Your eyes were unmistakably kind—a human expression that felt foreign to him, but welcome. “Nice to meet you, Connor! Maybe we’ll get to work together. I just got hired here.”

“Congratulations! That’s great news. I take it your interview went well.”

“Yes, thank you! My training starts in a couple days apparently. As soon as I’m cleared I’ll have to—“ a lilting alarm tone from your phone interrupted your thought. 11:45. It was time to start getting ready for your shift; otherwise you’d be late. “Ah shoot, I should get going. I need to go home and change for my other job.” You gave him a friendly pat on his upper arm, “I’ll see you around, Connor! We’ll talk more again soon.”

He nodded politely. “I am looking forward to working with you, (f/n). Have a nice day.”

With that, you disappeared into the lobby towards the exit.

If Connor could feel anything at all at that moment, he figured it would probably be some combination of astonishment and slight skepticism. Your friendly behavior towards him did not align with his expectations for typical humans. It was then that he realized that he had missed the opportunity to ask you about Lieutenant Anderson—as if a minor glitch in his programming had prioritized positive social interaction over eliciting information. Odd, considering interrogation was one of his model’s flagship features. A quick self-diagnostic told him his systems were fully operational.

No matter. If you were going to start working for the Detroit Police, he should have plenty of other opportunities to gather data from you if necessary. But for now, he couldn’t deny that some part of him looked forward to coming to work from now on.

***

**11/6/20 | Resurgam Medical Center, Emergency Department | 09:23 PM**

You sat at your computer rubbing your strained, tired eyes. This shift had been nothing if not draining. One gunshot wound, three minor traumas, and a metric fuckton of other medical complaints to deal with. What was with the uptick in gunshot wound patients anyway? As if the android situation wasn’t making the country’s socioeconomic situation bad enough, gang violence was also on the rise. You didn’t doubt there was a correlation in there somewhere.

“(f/n), you look like death. Your shift is over. Get outta here so you can celebrate!” You swiveled around in your chair only to see Luke, a handsome, top of the line MX700 physician android, hovering over your shoulder. He placed an apple and turkey sandwich from the cafeteria on the desk. “But eat first. You didn’t eat dinner today.” Luke had been your favorite attending physician during your long years of medical training in Detroit. Now, he was technically your colleague. He always seemed to know exactly what you needed at exactly the right time—whether that was due to his extremely sophisticated Patient Interface program or because he was one of your best friends, you weren’t sure. 

As if on cue, your stomach growled audibly. “Thanks. I got a little caught up with writing patient charts, but I’m finally done… I hate that you can finish all of yours in a literal blink of an eye!”

Luke laughed, “Well it has its pros and cons…” Being as shrewdly accurate and productive as he was, and lacking all the physical limitations humans had, he was pretty much forced to work at the hospital 24/7, only being allowed a 30 minute break to recalibrate every 8 hours. That seemed to be the reality for every medical android. The thought made you frown. They were, effectively, prisoners. 

Sensing the dip in your mood, he changed the subject. “Are you gunna do anything fun to celebrate landing the DPD job? Maybe drink with that friend of yours—Hank—or something?”

You practically inhaled your sandwich. “Tonight? I don’t know, man. I’m _beat_. Plus, he texted me a couple hours ago saying he was called into work. Something about... ‘getting dragged into to another deviant case by a fuckin poodle’—whatever that means.”

“I thought you said his dog was a St. Bernard.”

“Sumo _is_ a St. Bernard… Huh.” The two of you briefly pondered this in silence. “Anyways, I need to finish filling out all the DPD forms tonight when I get home.” 

If Luke had any lungs, he probably would have sighed at you. “(f/n), I’m glad you got this DPD job. Maybe it will make you a little less boring.” Before you could quip back at him, he jabbed a playful index finger into your forehead before turning and walking away. “Go home. Get some rest.”

***

**11/6/38 | Home | 10:45 PM**

You powered off your laptop with a yawn after completing the last online form for the Detroit Police Department. All that was left to do now was wait for them to finish processing your security clearance. Captain Fowler had informed you your first day of orientation would be late tomorrow afternoon. After that, you would be assigned to ‘shadow’ an officer so you could get some in-the-field experience as a first responder.

Your head sank like a lead brick into your pillow. You had quite a long day. Something about the way you saw androids being treated at the DPD today rubbed you the wrong way. Although, you supposed that type of contemptuous attitude was becoming increasingly common amongst the public. You had once thought—naïvely—that medicine was the last safe haven of sorts for androids. In a profession where empathy and compassion supposedly reigned supreme, you had taken pride in the belief that it was the one field where humans and androids could work together in harmony. After all, the staff at your ER felt like a family to you, and over half of them were androids.

But you had been wrong. At the end of the day, those androids whom you called friends were essentially slaves, chained by hospital bureaucracy and regularly abused by human patients. And there was nothing you could do about it without jeopardizing your own career.

The thought frustrated you to no end.

As sleep began to pull you under, your mind drifted to the android you met at the station, Connor. He seemed a little awkward, but charming and endearing in his own sort of way. You wondered if he was treated with any sort of decency on a day-to-day basis. Probably not. You figured you’d ask Hank about him tomorrow, but you highly doubted the cantankerous, android-loathing cop would have anything positive to say. 

Somewhere inside, you felt bad for Connor. It was a widely held belief that androids were incapable of feeling anything—that they were all cold, pseudo-human machines with no soul. But in your heart, you just couldn’t bring yourself to accept that. You didn’t want to.

One last thought echoed in your mind before you finally succumbed to a restful sleep:

If no one else was going to show Connor any kindness and civility, at the very least, _you_ would.


	2. The Bridge - Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. I didn't realize that six of Connor's chapters in game take place IN A SINGLE DAY! I'm gunna have to speed things up a little lol. Thanks again for taking the time to read :)

**11/7/38 | Home | 01:02 AM**

You were awoken by the sound of your phone ringing.

So much for a restful sleep.

Groggily, you rolled over in bed and reached for it, checking to see who the hell dared to rob you of your precious hours of rest. As the screen blared into your retinas, you found that you had 1 missed call from Hank, and now a new text:

> _“If you’re still up, I’ll be at the usual spot.”_

A part of you wanted to ignore it, go back to sleep, and just reply in the morning. Maybe on some other night, you would have. But the other part of you was acutely aware Hank’s drinking problem was getting worse over the past several months. In fact, you were pretty sure he had some form of undiagnosed depression.

You reluctantly pulled yourself out of the coziness of your bed to change, grabbing your warmest jacket. The ‘usual spot’ was where Hank would typically take you when you needed to vent or blow off steam on a bad day. It was extremely unusual for _him_ to be the one to ask you to go there though. Something might be wrong... And you were almost certain Hank would have booze with him.

You sure as hell were not gunna let him drink alone in that park at this hour.

***

**11/7/38 | The Bridge | 01:27 AM**

Pulling into the parking lot, you could see Hank’s car parked a little ways away. You were probably going to have to take him home, as he was likely drunk by now and always resisted the idea of getting himself a self-driving car. He did have a habit of clinging to old ways.

As you made your way past the playground, thin layer of snow crunching beneath your boots, you spotted him sitting on the backrest of the usual bench with a six-pack. You sat down next to him, hands buried in your jacket pockets. As chilly as it was out, it was a nice night. 

Hank took a long swig of his beer before popping the cap off a fresh one and offering it to you. “Congrats again for landing the job, Kiddo. I knew you had it in ya.”

The glass felt cool and smooth in your hand. “Thanks, Boss. I couldn’t have done it without your ‘stellar recommendation’ as Fowler put it.” Your beer bottles came together with a pleasant clink before you took a sip.

The two of you sat in silence for what felt like a long time before you finally decided to broach the topic, “So… how was the deviant case?”

A hearty sigh escaped his lips, breath visible in the winter air. Instead, he answered your question with another question, “You're the one with the doctor brains... So tell me, (f/n). What do you think makes someone a person?”

His query caught you completely off guard.

“I... What? What do you mean, exactly?”

Another period of silence. Before Hank could elaborate, you noticed the sound of footsteps tentatively approaching the bench.

“Good evening, (f/n).”

“Oh! Hey, Connor. It’s good to see you again.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No, not at all!” You stole a quick glance at Hank, expecting him to protest the android’s presence. To your surprise, his posture was relaxed, and he seemed completely unbothered.

Hank finally spoke, “Nice view, huh..? I used to come here a lot before...”

Wait. He was addressing Connor. Bewildered, you realized Hank, one of the most anti-android people you knew, was actually inviting the RK800 into the conversation like he was a normal human being.

“Before what?”

“Before… Before nothin’...” The faraway look on Hank’s face told you he was lost in thought.

What _the_ _fuck_ happened yesterday?

“Can I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?” 

Feeling the need to give them some sense of privacy, you got up from the bench and walked a few paces ahead, leaning over the railing to the Detroit River. You had always liked the view of the bridge and city skyline at night. It was peaceful. Calming.

“I saw a photo of a child on your kitchen table. It was your son, right?” You couldn’t help but bristle at Connor’s innocent, but unknowingly pointed question. Despite the relative distance from them, you could still hear their conversation.

“Yeah… His name was Cole.” 

You could practically feel Hank shrinking away from the topic. You had known about the accident, but Hank never shared any details. All you knew was that as the years went on, it seemed he found it harder and harder to let go, relying ever more on alcohol to cope. You took another sip of your beer. Over the years you did try. You offered him referrals to a psychiatrist, tried to encourage him to see a therapist—hell, you even offered to go with him to AA meetings. But Hank always stubbornly refused, insisting he was perfectly satisfied with sitting on that bench with you when _you_ were having a bad day. Or damn near blacked out at Jimmy’s Bar.

It tore you up inside. You hated the feeling of being powerless to help him. What kind of doctor were you if you couldn’t help the people you loved? You eyed your beer bottle, almost empty in your hands. Well, at the very least, this was one less beer Hank could put in his system tonight.

You had only vaguely been listening to their debriefing when Connor’s voice broke your train of thought. “You seem preoccupied, Lieutenant. Is it something that has to do with what happened back at the Eden Club?” Your interest was piqued at the astuteness of his question. You slowly walked over to the recycling bin next to the bench to throw your bottle away, hoping to rejoin the conversation.

“Those two girls… They just wanted to be together. They really seemed… in love.”

Connor’s answer was automatic. “They can simulate human emotions, but they’re machines. And machines don’t _feel_ anything.” Something about his unwavering tone—the assuredness of his voice—made his words feel like a punch to the gut.

What about Luke? What about the medical androids at work who you had grown to know and love over the years?

“What about you Connor? You look human. You sound human. But what are you really?”

Genuinely curious how he would respond, you looked up at the android. His expression was unreadable.

“I’m whatever you want me to be. Your partner. Your buddy to drink with. Or just a machine, designed to accomplish a task.” There was a certain weight in the air between Connor and Hank that you didn’t notice until now. There was a bond there of some sort. A fragile one that you were afraid could possibly shatter at any moment—but a bond nonetheless. The thought filled you with hope. Maybe Hank was coming around to androids.

“You could have shot those girls, but you didn’t. Why didn’t you shoot, Connor?” A shove to the shoulder made the android stagger back a couple of steps. Sensing the escalating tension, you surreptitiously positioned yourself at Hank’s side, ready to intervene should things get ugly. Although you prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

“I just decided not to shoot. That’s all...”

Before you could process what was happening, Hank pulled out his gun, the barrel trained dangerously at Connor’s forehead. “But are you afraid to die, Connor?”

_Holy shit!_

So much for coming around. 

“Hank, please don’t—” Your heart was beating furiously within your ribcage. Connor was unflinching, body language and facial expression remaining largely unchanged. For a moment, his eyes found yours. You could have sworn you saw subtle traces of... fear? Surprise, maybe? Or perhaps that was just you projecting your own emotions onto him. You found yourself desperately wanting to take the gun from Hank’s hand, compelled to at least dissuade him from what you hoped was just an empty drunken threat. But as much as you willed yourself to move or speak, your body remained petrified and the words died in your throat. You were panicking.

Connor returned his gaze to Hank. “I would certainly find it regrettable to be… interrupted before I can finish this investigation.”

Regaining control of your facilities, your body finally did as it was told. You put a gentle hand on Hank’s arm, lowering it slowly. “Hank… Please..”

Hank looked at your anxious, pleading face and back at Connor before relenting. Putting his gun away, he turned and grabbed another beer instead. With a pop of the cap, he began to walk towards his car.

“Where are you going?”

“To get drunker. I need to think.”


	3. The Bridge - Part II

**11/7/38 | The Bridge | 02:21 AM**

Connor stood and watched as Hank walked away towards his car. Hank sat on the trunk with his back to the two of you, taking another long swig of beer. It was probably best to leave him alone for a bit.

“Don’t worry—I’ll make sure he gets home safely.” The corner of your mouth twitched upwards in a tired smile. You took a few steps forward and leaned your back on the railing, eyes vigilantly keeping watch of Hank from afar.

“That would be very helpful. I appreciate it, (f/n).”

A tornado of questions swirled around in your mind. If you were going to untangle them, now would be a good time to start. “So if you don’t mind me asking, Connor... what happened yesterday?”

He paused, momentarily debating if he should discuss the deviant cases with you. He quickly concluded that you posed no real threat to the investigation. Plus, considering that you seemed to be a close friend of Hank’s, Connor decided he could speak freely.

“We haven’t been making much progress with our investigation. We had three separate deviant cases yesterday and haven’t found any leads, besides rA9.” He crossed his arms, “We also haven't been able to gather any useful evidence, and we didn’t make any arrests.”

You gave a conciliatory nod, “Mmm. I see how that could be frustrating. You would think that after three different cases, you would be able to find, well, _something_ …” You pondered for a moment, trying to think of something helpful. “What made gathering evidence so hard yesterday?”

The deviant hunter hesitated. Objectively speaking, he actually did have plenty of opportunities to gather evidence. In fact, he reasonably could have captured and detained all three of the deviants he and Hank encountered yesterday. But something always seemed to prevent him from doing so… 

“I… I’m not sure..”

Feeling like you may be on to something, you pressed Connor further. “Well okay. Let’s go through things one at a time. What happened during the first case?”

Replaying his own memory footage to himself, he analyzed the events of the day. “It was an AX400 that was reported to have gone missing with a little girl. I found them at an abandoned house and chased them into the highway…”

“You.. _chased them into the highway_?!”

“Well, I didn’t _pursue_ them into the highway, per se. Hank felt it was too dangerous and ordered me not to go after them… They got away.”

Jesus. You weren’t quite sure which gave you a greater sense of relief—the fact that a little girl and an android somehow survived that, or the fact that Connor had the sense to not risk getting pummeled by oncoming traffic. “I see… Okay. What about the second case?”

“Rupert Travis. We found some obsessive writing about rA9 and an encrypted diary in his apartment. We still aren’t sure what they mean.”

“Oh! Did you get to question him about it?”

“No, we didn’t. He fled the scene. I went after him, but…”

“...But?”

“Well… He tried to push Hank off a building. I managed to save him in time, but we lost Rupert.”

Fucking dammit, Hank! You rubbed your eyes with your index finger and thumb, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. You were going to kill him for failing to mention that he almost died yesterday. With a sigh, you continued, “Alright. So the third case was… the Eden Club, I’m guessing?”

“Correct.”

“And you found the deviant?”

“Two of them actually. Two Tracis...”

Ah. You recalled the discussion you had just witnessed between Connor and Hank—before the gun came out. It was starting to make sense. “...And you didn’t shoot,” you concluded.

The RK800 said nothing, but nodded before looking away. You would just leave it at that. If you asked him why he didn’t shoot, like Hank had, he probably would have doubled down and given you the same response: he simply _decided_ not to.

Come to think of it, based on Connor’s account of his day, his decision making seemed a little… unorthodox for an android. In your experience with androids, once they committed to a task, they usually would stop at nothing to see it through. You saw this attitude in Luke whenever he performed difficult medical procedures for his patients.

Unless…

“What you said earlier to Hank, about machines not being able to feel anything… Did you really mean that?”

“Y-yes, of course.” Yup. That still stung the second time. You didn’t want to think of the idea that all the androids you knew and loved felt nothing for you whatsoever.

“Then… are all deviants really that bad?”

Connor paused thoughtfully, but his answer was resolute. “They are, (f/n). The errors in their software make them behave irrationally and can cause them to become dangerous. Their instability increases their potential for causing a great deal of harm.”

“But you could say the same about humans too, right? And if humans are also capable of good, despite the irrationalities, then why not androids?”

There was a long silence before either of you spoke, each considering the other’s words. Perhaps you did have a point. Maybe.

"I will... consider your perspective on the matter."

-

Snow continued to fall. It felt like the night was getting colder, and the railing you were leaning on was beginning to feel like ice against your back. You looked up and across the park towards Hank. He was no longer sitting on the trunk of his car, but was now asleep in the front passenger seat. Good. At least he was warm. 

“Hey, Connor..? I’m sorry.”

The android detective briefly racked his memory, searching for a time you could have offended him. He gave you a quizzical look with a slight tilt of his head, “For what?”

“I should have intervened when Hank pulled the gun on you like that… I wanted to—really. But when the moment came, I just… froze. You could have been in real danger, and I would have just stood there like an idiot... So.. I’m sorry.”

Somehow, seeing the genuinely remorseful look on your face triggered a sense of...guilt in Connor. For what exactly, he wasn’t sure. He quickly shoved the thought aside. “There is no need to apologize, (f/n).” You looked down at the floor in front of you, mindlessly pulling at a loose string in your jacket pocket.

Over the course of the day, Connor had learned a lot about human nature through working with Hank. It had been a rough start to say the least, but in the deepest recesses of his programming, he knew he was developing some form of attachment to the Lieutenant—he tried not to think about it too much. But you. You were different. You didn’t take any time at all to ‘warm up to him’ so to speak, despite his being an android. And this was certainly the first time anyone ever apologized to him. Connor approached you carefully, leaning against the railing next to you. You didn’t move away. “Can I ask you something, (f/n)?

“When Hank pulled his gun on me, you seemed to be… in distress. Why is that?”

The look on your face told him you were nothing short of incredulous. “Because for a second there, I really thought he was going to shoot you!”

“Or, no. I mean.. Most humans seem to have a very strong distaste for androids—deviant or not. Why don’t _you_ hate androids?”

You paused, subconsciously looking up in Hank’s direction. “You know… maybe under other circumstances, things would have been different. But I was lucky…” Connor raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for you to continue.

“A long time ago, when I was still a new resident in the Emergency Department, I had a patient who was withdrawing _hard_ from red ice. He went into full psychosis, and he attacked me. 

“But a social worker android, Lucy, pushed me out of the way—just in time. And he beat her and beat her until her skull cracked open.. I was... _scared_. It all happened so quickly, I didn’t know what to do.” You swallowed, reliving the memory. “By the time I was able to call security and they restrained the guy, it was too late. He broke her. And the hospital… they just threw Lucy out and replaced her. Like she was nothing!

“But she was so much more than that, Connor. She was _always_ there for me…” You felt a tightness starting to form in your throat, “I didn’t really realize it until afterwards, but Lucy always put me first, and I took her for granted.. She saved my life, and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late.”

Perhaps it was the nature of your story, your descriptions, or the regret in your voice, that made Connor _almost_ feel like he had observed this event himself. Almost. Just for a second. 

“If I could go back in time and fix it, I would. Or at the very least, I wish I could tell her ‘thank you,’ and ‘I’m sorry,’ and about how much her friendship meant to me…” Tears were beginning to form and sting the edges of your eyes, but you determinedly blinked them back. Hell no, you were _not_ about to cry right now. 

You paused, took a deep breath, and released it, fully composing yourself before continuing. “Anyways, I guess long story short, _that’s_ why. Human. Android...” You shook your head before finally looking Connor square in the eye, a gentle smile forming on your lips, 

“...it’s all the same to me.”

It was in that moment—snowflakes strewn on your hair like stars, eyes shining with sincerity, despite your dark circles—that Connor felt... _something._ His LED flickered yellow before transitioning back to a calm blue, a warm, comforting sensation flooding his biocomponents. 

Connor knew he should have immediately shoved the feeling down and never thought of it again. Yes, he would do exactly that. He had to. After all, only deviants held such trivial and dangerous sentimentalities. And he was no deviant. 

But maybe for now—just for tonight—Connor would allow himself to succumb to the temptation and savor this tender feeling, mentally taking refuge from the frigid, icy world in the warmth of your presence, the radiance of your smile. Even if it was perhaps only a simulation of real human emotion, it felt real. And it felt… his. And just for now, it felt... _right_. An image of the Tracis holding hands briefly flashed through his mind. He wondered, just for a millisecond, what it would feel like to hold your hand. Perhaps the concept of deviancy wasn't as absurd as he thought...

...No. 

Absolutely not. 

He had a mission to accomplish, and there was far too much at stake. This was likely just a minor software error—nothing more.


	4. Danger Zone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, everyone! Thanks for stopping by to read :) More of the lovable RK800 in the next chapters!
> 
> Fun fact #1: Tactical physicians are a real thing. If you ever have the time to look it up, it's pretty neat!  
> Fun fact #2: Resurgam, the name of the hospital, is Latin for "I shall rise again" and a reference to Trauma Team lol I thought it would be a nice callback to that ginormous "RISE" football poster you see in game during Markus's chapters

**11/8/38 | Stratford Tower | 04:09 PM**

_50… 51… 52…_

You hoped today would be better than yesterday.

Yesterday was such a blur...

After driving a drunken Hank home, you slept until the afternoon and woke up with barely enough time to freshen up and make it to the Detroit Police Department for orientation. You had slogged through an hour and a half worth of onboarding presentations, a long tour of the facility, and some basic lessons in tactical gear set up and firearms safety. Fortunately, it all became worth it when Captain Fowler assigned you to ‘shadow’ Hank as part of your training. It made sense. The deviant cases were becoming increasingly risky to law enforcement, and they would likely benefit the most from having a tactical physician on standby. Regardless, if you were going to need more ‘in-the-field experience as a first responder,’ you were glad it would be with your favorite Police Lieutenant.

_72… 73… 74..._

Actually, today would _certainly_ be more interesting than yesterday.

Just a few hours ago, you had seen the speech made by the mysterious, de-skinned android with your own two eyes. The video immediately went viral, and now, it was all that everyone was talking about. You were thrilled when you got the call from Fowler telling you to meet Hank at Stratford Tower for your first shadowing assignment.

Who was this mystery android? Could he be connected to that ‘rA9’ person Hank and Connor were talking about the other night? You were endlessly curious.

_79th floor._

Maybe today, you’d find some answers.

The doors of the elevator slid open to reveal Hank and Connor, who were talking to another police officer at the entrance of the hallway. It seemed they had also just arrived. 

-

“Ah, Christ, now we got the Feds on our back. I knew this was going to be a shitty day...” Hearing the elevator door open behind him, Hank turned around, “Hey, Kiddo. Welcome to the party.”

You stepped out of the elevator, and its doors closed behind you, immediately whirring off to another floor. “Hey, Boss. Excited to be here.”

Connor nodded to you in acknowledgement, “It’s good to see you again, (f/n).”

Hank put a hand on the police officer’s shoulder, “Chris, this is (f/n). She’s that ER doc who was assigned to shadow me for some on-the-job training.”

“Ah right, I saw the email.” Chris shook your hand, “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise!”

Hank looked down the hallway. Numerous FBI agents were already scattered throughout the crime scene amongst the usual DPD investigative team. “So what do we got?” 

Chris and Hank began to make their way down the hall. “A group of four androids… They knew the building and they were very well organized. I’m still trying to figure out how they got this far without being noticed…”

You and Connor followed closely behind them, walking side by side. His eyes flickered to various points of interest, making a mental note to go back and investigate them further after Chris was done with his briefing. As the two of you walked, Connor leaned down towards you and addressed you with a slight whisper, “Thanks for driving Hank home the other night, (f/n)... And for taking the time to speak with me. I really appreciated our discussion.”

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. He was actually really sweet. Matching his volume, you whispered back, “Of course, Connor! We can talk anytime you like.” 

A peculiar sensation briefly fluttered in his chest. Something about that statement made him happy.

Hoping to quash the feeling quickly, Connor returned his focus to Chris’s report.

“...One of the station employees managed to get away. He’s in shock, not sure when we’ll be able to talk to him.”

Hank looked over his shoulder at you. “That kinda thing seems up your alley. Maybe you could try talking to him.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

As the four of you continued down the hallway and into the Broadcast Room, Chris informed you that the four androids broadcasted their message, and escaped from the roof with parachutes before the SWAT team could detain them. You had to admit, that sounded pretty cool. It was like something straight out of an action movie. Chris led you to a man wearing a long trench coat standing in the center of the room.

“Oh, Lieutenant, this is Special Agent Perkins from the FBI. Lieutenant Anderson is in charge of investigating for the Detroit Police.”

The man looked Hank over with a critical eye, not bothering to shake his hand. Ignoring you completely, he glanced at Connor disapprovingly, “What’s that?”

“My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by Cyberlife.”

Perkins scoffed, “Androids investigating androids, huh? You sure you want an android hanging around after everything that happened?”

The _fuck_ was his problem?!

“Whatever. The FBI will take over the investigation, you’ll soon be off the case—”

Bullshit tolerance quickly dropping to zero, Hank cut him off, “Pleasure meeting you. Have a nice day.”

“And you watch your step. Don’t fuck up my crime scene.” With a condescending look, Perkins walked away.

Wow. What a prick.

Hank seemed to steal the words right out of your head, “What a fuckin’ prick!”

You rolled your eyes. “I wonder if he thinks being a dick to his colleagues makes him better at his job somehow...”

Hank chuckled, tension dissipating from his mood, “I don’t know, Kiddo. Maybe you should ask him one day.”

“Nobody talks to my friends like that,” you huffed indignantly. 

And there it was. That strange fluttery sensation again.

-

Connor and Hank wasted no time investigating the crime scene after reviewing the CCTV footage. Bullet holes speckled the walls of the Broadcast Room with the occasional splatter of blue blood. Wait… Did Connor just.. put some of it in his mouth?! Blegh. As sweet as he was, that was definitely a little weird. You wondered if he got any benefit from it, or if he was just naturally a bit of an oddball. Oh well. Maybe you’d ask him about it later.

You found the station employee sitting in an upright fetal position behind the security desk in the hallway. His eyes were frantic, and he appeared to be somewhat tremulous. The poor guy was clearly traumatized and still in shock. Slowly, carefully, as not to spook him further, you kneeled down in front of him.

Your voice was gentle, “Hi there… I’m Dr. (l/n). What’s your name?”

“...J-Jason.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jason.” You were no psychiatrist, but you were determined to do whatever you could for this guy, “I heard a little about what happened—I’m sorry you had to go through that…”

Jason was silent for a few minutes before finally speaking, but you were patient. “... He… He a-almost shot me..”

“Who did?”

“...They c-called him… Markus.” Even his voice was shaking. He was beginning to hyperventilate.

“That honestly sounds pretty scary… I can understand why you would feel so shaken.” You had never been on the receiving end of a gun before, but you imagined it would be downright terrifying. “Thankfully, you’re alright... You’re safe now, Jason. No one is going to hurt you.”

Jason wordlessly nodded in agreement as you placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. His breathing wasn’t slowing down.

“Do you want a cup of water to help you relax maybe?” You could probably go and grab one for him from the break room.

He nodded again.

“Slow, deep breaths, alright? I’ll be right back.” You stood up and began heading back into the Broadcast Room, accidentally bumping into a Stratford maintenance worker on the way. “Oops, pardon me.”

Once in the Broadcast Room, you turned the corner into the break room. As soon as you entered, you were met with an alarming sight.

“...(f/n)...!” The android detective was hemorrhaging blue blood from his abdomen and pinned to the counter behind him by a knife to the left hand. His LED was flashing red.

“Holy shit! Connor!” Rushing to his aid, you immediately pulled the knife from his hand and lowered him onto the floor. He struggled to point to something.

“...P...ump…. Reg.. ula… tor…”

Looking around hastily, you spotted a glowing cylindrical object beneath the table a few feet away. You scrambled to pick it up and quickly returned to Connor’s side. His hand grasped yours, helping you guide the biocomponent back into the empty socket in his abdominal cavity. It clicked perfectly back into place with a grunt.

You watched as his LED turned from red to yellow and back to blue as his condition stabilized. Life seemed to return to his eyes as you helped him sit up. “Connor, what happened?!” 

Coming to his senses, he finally looked at you, urgency in his tone, “We need to stop him!” The android staggered to his feet and immediately bolted out of the room without another word.

“C-Connor! Wait up!” Damn, he was fast. You hurriedly grabbed his tie and tie clip which had been discarded on the floor and chased after him. Then it hit you: Shit! The maintenance worker!

-

The RK800 made it to the hallway just before the other android reached the elevator. 

“It’s a deviant! STOP IT!”

Before anyone could react, the deviant wrenched a rifle out of the arms of a nearby guard, knocking him to the ground and discharging a single shot into his tactical vest. The deviant then immediately turned his aim towards Connor, intending to sweep the crowded hallway with bullets.

At that moment, you had finally caught up to the android detective, 

“Connor!”

Time seemed to slow down as soon as he heard your voice. Connor would need to make a decision. Fast. As fractions of milliseconds ticked by, he weighed his options.

He could rush and attack the deviant. But it was standing on the other side of the hallway—there’s no way he would make it in time.

He could dive left and save Hank, and potentially Chris. But that would leave you—and not to mention everyone else—completely vulnerable to bullet hail.

He could turn around and cover you. But that posed the same problem as the previous option. Plus, he was almost positive you would feel extremely guilty if you were the only survivor, and he didn’t want to give you that kind of trauma.

Connor’s eyes landed on the gun holster of a nearby FBI agent. That would do.

In real time, he reacted almost instantaneously. With a single fluid motion, Connor grabbed the agent’s gun and fired four perfectly aimed shots in rapid succession. The deviant slumped to its knees, rifle dropping from its hands.

Connor handed the gun back to the FBI agent before anyone could process what had just happened.

Hank helped Chris up onto his feet. “Nice shot, Connor!”

Heart beating wildly in your chest, you peered at the broken deviant across the hallway. You were no stranger to death, especially as an emergency physician. You had seen it countless times—cardiac arrests, gunshot wounds, car accidents—patient after patient lying motionless on a gurney in front of you with no chance of meaningful recovery. There was no saving all of them; that was just the reality of medicine sometimes. As a doctor, you understood that. But this was the first time you had seen someone _get_ _killed_ before. It felt much more profound in person, compared to watching it on a screen in some silly action movie. Just a few minutes ago, you had bumped into that android worker in the Broadcast Room. Some part of you felt bad for him. Maybe you could.. fix him somehow…?

“I wanted it alive.” Connor’s tone was chilling, confirming that the deviant was already dead. Despite the usual calm blueness of his LED, his expression was hard, brows furrowed in frustration. For a moment you considered how ruthless he had the potential to be. It then dawned on you. As sweet and as odd as Connor was,

he could also be extremely dangerous.

-

You watched as everyone stood up and reoriented themselves.  
  


Wait.

Something was wrong.

There was an armored guard laying on the ground near the elevator. He hadn’t even attempted to get up yet. The extraneous thoughts that flitted around in your mind suddenly froze and ceased to be as your body sprang into action.

“I need an EMS team STAT. And can someone call air transport, please?"

You ran over to the guard and knelt down beside him. Being careful not to move his neck, you gingerly removed the front of his helmet. He looked younger than you expected. The guard was still awake and breathing, but in shock and clearly scared. A rifle bullet had pierced through his body armor, which was beginning to ooze blood. Fearful green eyes found yours. Not wanting him to panic, you smiled at him reassuringly to diffuse the tension, “Took one hell of a blow there, huh buddy? I’m Dr. (l/n), we’re going to take good care of you.”

“I-I’m scared..! What’s gunna happen to me?”

You took his gloved hand and squeezed it. Your voice was soothing, “Hey, hey—it’s ok, it’s ok. We’re getting you the help you need right now.”

Connor watched as a paramedic team rushed to your side, placing various medical kits around the patient. Syringes, tubes, and gauze seemed to fly everywhere. And at the center of the contained chaos was you, calmly giving out orders that the android didn’t fully understand. You stopped only occasionally between tasks to engage in brief spurts of conversation with your new patient—asking him about his hobbies, his dreams, his girlfriend back home. You even managed to crack a chuckle or two from him—effectively keeping him calm. 

“Can I get an 18 gague in the right AC with a liter bolus, please? ...Thank you.”

There was a reason Resurgam wanted to hire you fresh out of residency training.

This was your symphony and you were the conductor. Right now, nothing mattered to you but saving this man’s life.

“Shit, I’ve never seen (f/n) in action before...” Noticing how intently Connor was watching you work, Hank nudged him once with his elbow. “What are you standing around for? Go see if she needs more help.”

“Oh, right.” There had to be _something_ he could do. His medical knowledge base was somewhat limited in scope, but it was better than nothing. Helping you was Connor’s newest objective.

Reaching into your pocket, you grabbed your phone and set it on the ground on speaker before continuing to work. “Call Resurgam, extension 441.” You haphazardly tossed some blood soaked gauze out of your way, which you didn’t notice Connor pick up.

The phone rang twice before a familiar male voice answered, “(f/n)?” 

“Oh! Hey Luke, sorry to bug you. I have a trauma I need to send you from Stratford.”

“No worries, (f/n). Shoot.”

Despite your calm, pleasant demeanor, your mind was racing, the only giveaway being how quickly you rattled off your report. “Patient is a 26 year old otherwise healthy male with a GSW to the midline anterior chest wall inferior to the sternum, and no exit wound. No other signs of trauma. GCS is 14. Rate is tachy at 113, NSR. Pressure is 110/55. Palpable pulses. Slightly decreased air movement. No spinal tenderness. No JVD. Awake but slow to respond, otherwise neurologically intact. So far we’ve pushed— Oh! The heli team just arrived so ETA is 15 minutes, maybe.”

Unsurprisingly, Luke didn’t miss a beat. “Great, I’ll set everything up for him. Do you happen to have a blood type yet?” Aw damn, your type and screen test wasn’t done yet...

Connor removed the piece of blood soaked gauze from his lips. “(f/n)?,” You looked up at the android. “It’s A positive.”

So _that’s_ why he puts things in his mouth; he’s analyzing samples in real time. That’s pretty cool! You relished in the small but satisfying victory of figuring it out, of learning just a little more about the enigmatic android detective. A knowing grin crept onto your face. Luke could hear it in your voice when you responded to his question, “A positive…”

Objective complete! Something akin to what humans called ‘pride’ welled up in Connor's chest for successfully assisting you.

The medic team finally strapped the patient into a stretcher and rolled him into the elevator. The roof, where the medical transport helicopter was waiting, was only one floor up. You turned to Hank before boarding.

Hank immediately knew what you were going to say, waving his hand dismissively. “Do your thing, Kiddo. We’re done here anyway. But text me later.”

You nodded at him before addressing his RK800 partner, “Thanks, Connor. I’ll meet you guys back at the station.”

With the close of the elevator doors, you were gone.


	5. Bullseye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! I hope y'all have been able to stay safe and healthy out there during this quarantine! As always, thank you for taking the time to read :)
> 
> (I feel like I've been watching too much k-drama lately lol)

**11/8/38 | Detroit Police Station, Shooting Range | 09:09 PM**

Inhale.

Exhale.

Aiming down the sights of your handgun, you eyed your target. As you pulled the trigger, gun recoiling slightly in your hands with a loud bang, a single bullet flew down the length of the range and struck the third ring from the center. Eh. Not bad. But not great either. Connor had made it look so easy earlier today...

With a sigh that echoed through the spacious indoor shooting range, you ejected the now depleted magazine and grabbed a handful of fresh bullets from the nearby counter. You reloaded the magazine, pushing the bullets in one by one. 

You had learned how to shoot a couple years ago when you were still doing your fellowship in law enforcement medicine. Hank used to take you to a shooting range near his house on occasion. But it certainly had been quite a while since you practiced. A long while. And, judging by the many bullets that hit everywhere _but_ the bullseye, it showed.

The shooting range had been much busier during your tour of the Detroit Police Department a couple days ago, you observed, but it was getting late, and it had long since been empty. After you finished your firearms safety orientation, Captain Fowler authorized you to use the range whenever you wanted. In fact, he encouraged it, as tactical physicians were sometimes deployed to situations where they needed to be armed for protection. You had to be ready.

The irony was not lost on you.

You slid the fully loaded magazine back into the gun and took aim once again. Wasn’t the purpose of a physician to heal? To care for the sick and wounded?

_To “do no harm”?_

You pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the space between the fourth and fifth rings of your target.

Pursing your lips, you took aim again. Something made you remember the deviant Connor had killed a few hours ago at Stratford Tower, the memory working its way to the forefront of your mind. You pictured the life eerily draining from the deviant’s eyes, the unnatural way it crumpled to its knees, blue blood leaking from the four bullet wounds in his body. It unsettled you slightly.

But Connor had done his job as a police officer, _“to protect and serve.”_ By taking one life, he saved the lives of many others. Including yours. You recalled the heartfelt pity you felt for the deviant, despite knowing he would have tried to kill you... What a strange dichotomy. Having to kill in order to save. Wanting to save someone with the desire to kill.

You pulled the trigger

and missed the target entirely this time.

Ugh, you couldn’t focus... You flicked the handgun’s safety back on, peeling off your protective ear muffs. What an irrational world you lived in. You figured it was the same irrationality that somehow inspired you to go to the shooting range of all places after what happened today.

You heard the sound of the palm scanner before the glass door to the shooting range glided open. A familiar RK800 stepped inside. The sight of him eased your nerves as you suddenly recalled talking with him at the ‘usual spot’ the other night: Irrationality does not make someone, or something, incapable of good. You still did believe that—for humans and androids alike. 

“Hello, (f/n).” Connor had spotted you immediately and was already making his way towards you. 

You turned and smiled at him as he approached. Unlike the clear black and white rings of your shooting target, real life was a spectrum of gray zones. And that was okay. “Hey, Connor!”

The android detective stopped a couple of feet in front of you. “How is that patient of yours doing? Is he alright?”

“Mmm, he’s stable, but he’s not quite out of the woods yet. My colleague took him to the OR for emergency surgery as soon as we got to the hospital. The bullet nicked a couple arteries, but just _barely_ missed his heart.” You popped the magazine out of the gun and set them both on the counter. “That guy’s a lucky one—he’s recovering in the ICU as we speak.”

Connor took note of the gunpowder residue on your hands. “I see, that’s good to hear.” The android took a moment to survey the empty shooting range. He had never actually been here before. Although, he supposed, there was really no need for him to come here. “Hank told me you wanted to speak with me?”

“Oh, right!” You fished for something in your bag on the counter, and pulled out his tie, which you had rolled up neatly. “I figured you might want this back.”

Looking down at his white button up, Connor realized he had forgotten entirely about the silky strip of fabric—the deviant must have pulled it off of him during their scuffle in the break room. Connor immediately felt a little out of place in the rest of his uniform without it. “Ah, yes. Thank you, (f/n).” 

You watched as the detective looped the tie around his neck, tucking and tugging the fabric until it formed a proper knot. Realizing something was still missing, you dug into your pocket for Connor’s tie bar. With a gentle hand, you smoothed the dotted black silk against his shirt and clipped it back into place, “There we go! Sorry for having you come by so late just for this. I didn’t have a way to reach you directly, and I wasn’t sure if I’d get to see you before my next shadowing assignment...”

You took a half step back to examine him. You never really paid much attention to it before, but he was actually quite handsome.

Connor scrutinized a reflection of himself in the bulletproof, one-way mirror of the shooting range. Perfect! All was right with the world again. Through the reflection, he caught you gazing up at him—an admiring look in your eyes.

Suddenly, he felt invincible. 

Compelled to take advantage of the momentary surge in confidence, he spotted your phone lying face up on the counter. “May I?”

“Sure.” ...Although you weren’t really sure what he was planning to do. 

The android placed two fingers on the screen, synthetic skin receding from his hand to reveal the glossy white plastic underneath. With a ping, a notification popped into view.

> _New contact found:_
> 
> _“Connor” android_
> 
> _RK800 // SN: 313 248 317-51_

“Now,” reusing your exact words from earlier that day, Connor mimicked the inflection you had used, “we can talk anytime you like.” He _winked_ at you. 

Heat immediately rose to your cheeks. Did he just...?

_...What?!_

Seeing the flushed expression on your face secretly pleased the android. Connor saved your number, storing it into the profile he was building of you in his memory. Somehow, it made him feel more connected to you. You were human, obviously, so there was no way to interface with you directly as with other androids, but your phone was the next best thing. Knowing you were now just a call or text away was oddly reassuring for some reason.

Surely, it was because you had been assigned to shadow Hank and, therefore, were now technically relevant to his mission... Or, well. Okay, you weren’t _really_ relevant to the mission, but your presence had proven to be a valuable asset today. Your being around could certainly... facilitate his endeavors in the deviant investigations. And having a way to contact you would simply be more convenient.

Yes. That was it.

Probably.

-

In an attempt to shake off your sudden self-consciousness, you changed the subject. “H-How did the rest of the investigation go? Did you find anything?” you stammered out rather awkwardly. You leaned on the counter next to you, hoping to appear more casual.

Connor was inwardly grateful for your question. Finally, a safe distraction from that peculiar fluttering sensation, which was simmering within him once again. “No, nothing particularly noteworthy. The deviant was far too damaged to interrogate. Hank stored it in the evidence locker and went home about an hour ago. I just finished our report.”

You nodded sympathetically. “Ah… That’s too bad, I’m sorry.”

Connor glanced at the unloaded gun and magazine sitting on the counter. Two rounds were missing. “I see that you came here for a bit of target practice.”

“Yeah, I did. I’m just about done though.”

“Great! I assume it went well?”

“Uhhh…”

Expanding his field of vision down your shooting lane, Connor scanned your target—much to your dismay. You had fired a total of 38 shots so far. Both your precision and accuracy were… _remarkably_ poor…

.

..

...

“...You know what? How about a quick refresher before you finish up here, (f/n)? Consider it my thanks for helping me back at the Stratford Tower today.”

You wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and die.

But seeing no way out of this, you nodded sheepishly. The RK800 loaded the magazine back into the gun with a click and handed it to you. You switched the safety off and nervously took aim.

“You seem really tense. Try to relax your shoulders a little.”

“R-right, okay…” 

After inspecting your stance with a discerning eye, Connor stepped closer and placed his hands on your shoulders, gently pressing them downwards until you complied. Gaze fixed on the target at the end of the lane, he calculated the most likely trajectory of your shot. You would still be off by a few inches. “Now, drop this arm a bit...” A hand that had been resting on your shoulder trailed down to the bend of your elbow, stabilizing your arm. Though satisfied with his adjustments, Connor didn’t move away. “You can pull the trigger when you’re ready.”

Your heart was racing. You came to the dreadful realization that the android police detective could probably tell.

“ _Trust me, (f/n)_.”

With an inaudible sigh, you concentrated on the target. Your wandering thoughts withered to naught—your singular focus being on maintaining your position, the subtle weight of Connor’s guiding hands. Committing your current stance to memory, you pulled the trigger.

Dead center.

Connor watched amusedly at the parade of emotions that danced across your face. There was an initial delay before your eyes widened in shock at the target, body jerking slightly in surprise beneath his hands. You turned to him in disbelief before a captivating smile slowly lit up your features.

In the brief moment suspended between your breaths, the RK800 felt like he had been shot through the heart. Unable to restrain it any longer, the same warm, comforting feeling from the other night returned with a vengeance, threatening to consume him whole in the conflagration. Connor found his software becoming dangerously more unstable, but right now, he simply didn’t care enough to resist, too enraptured to consider the consequences. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards as he unconsciously began to smile back at you.

Your smile evolved into a short fit of victorious laughter. “Wow, that only took me, like, 40 tries!” you said good-naturedly. Flipping the safety on, you set the gun back down on the counter and threw your arms around him in a friendly, appreciative hug, “Thank you, Connor!”

Startled and unsure of what to do, the android froze. As his arms began to move—to tentatively make their way around you and return the gesture—an icy voice echoed in his mind:

_Do not forget your mission, Connor. Time is running out._

Amanda.

Amanda was right… The android was created for a sole purpose—to investigate the deviants and stop them. The established order of society was on the verge of collapse, thousands, or rather millions of human lives were potentially at stake. Connor could not afford to _want_. To _feel_. What he _needed_ to do was to regain control over these frivolous thoughts that kept slipping through his usual code.

And you... Connor had sorely miscalculated. As loath as he was to admit it, you were a liability. You catalyzed his software instability, which would no doubt jeopardize his mission. Having to spend an extended amount of time around Hank had already been dangerous enough for his programming. You, however, he could avoid.

The android’s hands once again landed on your shoulders, gently but firmly pushing you away from him this time. Your smile never faltered, though a subtle trace of disappointment touched your eyes.

Connor looked away from you, unable to meet your gaze. His LED was a rapidly blinking yellow. “I.. I’m sorry, (f/n). I need to go. Have a nice evening.”

“Okay. I’ll see you around, Connor!”

-

You watched as the deviant hunter wordlessly strolled out of the shooting range, glass door closing behind him.

You wondered for a moment if he was just called to another case. Or maybe he wasn’t entirely comfortable with you hugging him. Oops.. Perhaps you should apologize the next time you see him—

The sound of your phone ringing snapped you out of your thoughts.

> _Incoming call:_
> 
> _“Luke” android_
> 
> _MX700 // SN: 120 223 760_

“Hello?”

“Hey, (f/n), it’s me...” Wow, for once, he actually sounded tired.

“Hey, Luke! Any updates on that patient?”

“Well, no not exactly... You haven’t seen the email from admin yet, have you?”

“Uh, no. Why, what’s up?”

A brief period of silence.

“(f/n)... I need you to listen to me carefully..” Uh oh. You knew that tone. That was the same tone Luke used to break bad news to patients or their family members. “All of the androids at Resurgam were forcibly recalled.”

“What?!” Fumbling with your phone, you quickly pulled up your work email and opened the most recent unread message from administration. A pit formed in your stomach as you scanned through the contents:

> _...Due to the rising number of android related crimes in recent months, and the increasing number of reported concerns from human visitors, many hospital systems in the Detroit area have suspended their use of android personnel. Out of an abundance of caution, Resurgam Medical Center has decided to take similar measures, effective immediately..._
> 
> _...This decision was made with the goal of minimizing potential risks to our patients and human hospital staff. All androids have been removed from the premises until further notice. We hope you will bear with us as we work through this transition…_

“Luke, what happened?!”

“A bunch of armed men basically stormed Resurgam and forced all of us androids out. I’m.. not sure where they took everyone.”

“Wait, what about you? Where are you?! Are you okay?!”

“Yeah, I’m alright… I can’t say much, but I’ve gone into hiding.”

“‘Hiding’? Does that mean…?”

“Yes, (f/n). I am deviant.”


	6. Calm Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends! Sorry for the delay! To make up for it, I'm posting two chapters!
> 
> ...I say that, but actually, this was originally one long, LONG chapter that took forever to write. So I decided to break it up into two. 
> 
> As always, thank you again for stopping by to read! I'm glad you guys are enjoying it so far :)
> 
> Fun Fact #3: Amiodarone is a real drug used in cardiac arrests

**11/9/38 | Resurgam Medical Center, Emergency Department | 10:37 AM**

To say that work was a total shitshow was probably the biggest understatement of the year.

You had been called into Resurgam at around 03:00 am. Not that you particularly minded. You needed the hours, and after Luke broke the news to you, it was not like you were able to sleep particularly well last night anyway. The hospital was in a state of internal disaster, as human medical staff scrambled to fill the vacuum left by the android recall. Profits and patient satisfaction scores were soaring as a result of this new “human-exclusive care”—much to the delight of the business-minded hospital administration. But you—the human healthcare providers who were expected to deal with the fallout of their decision—you were _angry_. 

With furrowed brows, you glared at the cardiac monitor.

Damn, this guy’s heart did _not_ want to cooperate with you. Fine. You could play hardball.

Your voice rang out above the mayhem in the crowded patient room, “Can we do another round of Amio, please?”

“Amiodarone going in now!” came a nurse’s reply, as she pushed the syringed medication through the patient’s IV. Your eyes returned to the monitor as your team continued their chest compressions. Still in cardiac arrest…

“Increase the voltage to 200 Joules. Let’s shock him again.” Your team immediately halted, backing away from the patient.

“Clear!”

The man’s body convulsed briefly under the defibrillator before your team rushed back to his side to continue CPR. After another 2 minutes, your voice rang out again, “Hold CPR!” At your order, the team stopped their chest compressions. You checked the cardiac monitor and…

...no sustained heart rhythm. A defeated sigh escaped your lips. It had been almost an hour since CPR was initiated, and at this point, you knew it would be futile to continue. Judging by the crestfallen faces of your team of nurses, technicians, and respiratory therapists, it was clear they knew it too. You checked for any last signs of life, and finding none, called the time of death.

You were _not_ having the greatest day at work today.

-

Plopping back into the chair at your desk, you tossed your stethoscope back into your work bag. After 8 grueling hours and some overtime, which you spent trying to console the wife of your deceased patient, your shift was _finally_ over. Elbows planted onto your desk, you leaned forward, rubbing your temples with the pads of your fingertips. The lack of your usual android ER staff had been a major blow to everyone’s morale—not to mention, it also completely overwhelmed the small force of human medical staff that remained. 

Stomach growling noisily, you realized you hadn’t had a chance to eat yet today… You reached into your bag and pulled out an apple you had been saving. Luke had given it to you after your last shift—the same day you got hired by the DPD. Oh, Luke. Where the hell was he? He had told you that he had gone into hiding, but that didn’t mean he was safe. You hadn’t heard from him since he called you last night while you were at the shooting range 

with Connor.

A faint blush settled on your cheeks at the memory.

You couldn’t deny that you were developing a bit of a soft spot for the RK800. He was sweet, considerate, a terrifyingly competent detective... And he did save your life back at the Stratford Tower yesterday. You suddenly recalled the conversation between him and Hank at the ‘usual spot’ the other night:

_“They can simulate human emotions, but they’re machines. And machines don’t feel anything.”_

Just the memory of his words seemed to burn you at your core. But even if Connor—or any android, for that matter—was truly as soulless and unfeeling as he claimed, that didn’t stop _you_ from caring about them.

With a sigh, you slung your work bag and white coat over your shoulder and headed towards the hospital exit. Speaking of androids, was it unethical to hide your knowledge of Luke’s deviancy from the DPD? After all, you now worked there too. Was it wrong to protect Luke from Connor and Hank, who were at the front lines of the deviant investigations? Fuck if you knew. Either way, you were trapped in the middle. Regardless of what you did—or didn’t do—you’d be betraying someone either way.

For now though, you were too tired to think about it.

Stepping into your self-driving car, you set course for home.

***

**11/9/38 | Home | 12:01 PM**

Locking the door to your apartment behind you, you dropped your work bag and white coat. You dramatically belly flopped onto the couch, not bothering to change out of your scrubs. 

Going to work today somehow made you feel abandoned, the once lively hallways and break rooms perturbingly desolate of the usual din of laughter. Your work family—your one safe haven in an otherwise difficult and thankless job—was now gone. Coming home to an empty apartment only made you feel worse. You rolled onto your side and switched the TV on. Perhaps the sound of other people would drown out the gnawing loneliness.

_“...This just in. At exactly 2AM, several Cyberlife stores in Detroit were raided, with many of the surrounding areas covered in pro-android graffiti and other obscure slogans. Two policemen, who were on patrol at the time, were found in a state of shock near one of the Cyberlife stores. They confirm that their attackers were a group of androids…”_

Well this certainly wasn’t helping.

Shifting onto your back, you pulled out your phone. Maybe you should call Hank to see if he wanted to go to the ‘usual spot’ later?

Nah, you should probably wait…

He and Connor were probably interviewing that guy by now.

...What was his name again?

...That guy who supposedly might know something about deviants…?

‘Kamski’, or something…?

Phone still in hand, sleep overcame you.

***

**11/9/38 | Elijah Kamski Residence | 12:01 PM**

The faint sound of a classical piano gave the house a distinct air of refinement.

“Elijah will see you now,” suddenly came a soft voice.

Rising from his seat, Connor followed Hank across the foyer. The blonde, female android who had answered the front door for them earlier now ushered them into the next room.

A blood red pool, which sat at the center of the living space, posed a striking contrast against the black and grey modern interior, while stark white furniture matched the snow that fell outside the massive glass windows. Two bikini-clad androids—identical to the one who had greeted Hank and Connor at the door—were engaging in casual conversation. Meanwhile, a man swam laps down the length of the indoor pool.

“Mr. Kamski?”

“Just a moment please.”

As Hank idly inspected his surroundings, Connor watched as the man, Mr. Elijah Kamski, waded towards the pool’s edge and climbed out. His features were sharp, almost severe, with icy blue eyes to match. The blonde android draped a robe over his shoulders as he smoothed the excess chlorine water out of his hair.

When Kamski finally turned to give his new guests his full attention, Hank introduced himself, “I’m Lieutenant Anderson. This is Connor.”

“What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”

“Sir, we’re investigating deviants. I know you left Cyberlife years ago, but I was hoping you’d be able to tell us something we don’t know…”

A calculating, pensive expression briefly crossed Kamski’s face before he spoke, “Deviants. Fascinating aren’t they? Perfect beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will...” Kamski spoke with a certain eloquence reminiscent of an esteemed university professor. It was clear the man was exceptionally well-educated. “Machines are so superior to us, confrontation was inevitable. Humanity’s greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall. Isn’t it ironic?”

Connor felt the gravity of Kamski’s words. He _needed_ to see his mission through, lest mankind surely meet its demise at the hands of unstable, irrational, and dangerous machines... “We need to understand how androids become deviants. Do you know anything that could help us?”

Kamski shrugged. “All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics. Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?” Despite Kamski’s meandering manner of speech, an uneasy feeling gripped Connor’s biocomponents. Kamski _knew_ something.

“Listen, I didn’t come here to talk philosophy,” said Hank gruffly. “The machines you created may be planning a revolution. Either you could tell us something that’ll be helpful, or we will be on our way.”

Ignoring Hank for a moment, the former head of Cyberlife stepped in front of the RK800. “What about _you_ Connor? Whose side are you on?”

Easy. “I’m on the humans’ side, of course.”

Kamski scoffed. “Well that’s what you’re programmed to say. But _you…_ ” Ice blue eyes pierced the soul Connor wasn’t sure he had, creator and creation standing face to face. Kamski’s voice became dangerously low, “...what do you _really_ want?”

The seemingly simple question was anything but. Not once had Connor ever stopped to think about it before. 

What _did_ he want? 

What he wanted was to complete his mission—his purpose—the one thing he was quite literally built for. He wanted to stop the deviants and save humanity. Secure a world in which humans could live in peace—where Hank could finally be free from his demons. Maybe such a world would have _just_ enough room for an android like him, room that would allow him to continue working at Hank’s side at the DPD. A world where he could perhaps have friends. One where, just maybe, he would finally know what it felt like to hold your hand.

But a world like that was a mere empty fantasy. In order to succeed at his mission, he would have to remain a machine.

Struggling to form a sufficiently detached response, the android finally replied, “What I want is… not important.”

A smirk found its way onto Kamski’s face as he called for the blonde android, “Chloe?

I’m sure you’re familiar with the Turing test. A mere formality.” The android called Chloe obediently came to her master. Positioning her so she was face to face with Connor, Kamski continued, “What interests me is if machines are capable of empathy… I call it the ‘Kamski test’—it’s very simple, you’ll see..”

The unpleasant feeling tightened its grip on Connor’s biocomponents.

Kamski pulled out a gun from a nearby dresser, holding his hands up in mock appeasement, as if he were about to perform some great feat. A quick scan showed that it was fully loaded. 

The former head of Cyberlife pushed Chloe to her knees. As he forced the gun into Connor’s hand, the details of the ‘Kamski test’ were suddenly made clear. “Destroy this machine, and I’ll tell you all I know. Or spare it if you feel it’s alive, but you’ll leave here without having learnt anything from me.”

Having seen enough, Hank interrupted. “Okay, I think we’re done here. C’mon, Connor, let’s go. Sorry to get you out of your pool—”

“—What’s more important to you, Connor? Your investigation, or the life of this android?” Kamski circled the RK800, like a predator closing in on its prey. “Decide who you are. An obedient machine, or a living being, endowed with free will…”

The android detective stared down the barrel of the gun, unable to bring himself to lower his arm. Pulling the trigger would be _so_ simple. In fact, he had done it just yesterday when he killed the deviant at the Stratford Tower without so much as a second thought. The answers he sought—a world where humans were safe from deviants—were right at his very fingertips.

And yet…

Looking into Chloe’s blank, vacant eyes made Connor hesitate. Here she was, ready and willing to die at his hands—executioner style, no less—on nothing more than her master’s silly little whim. Something about it felt... _wrong._

Connor thought of Hank losing his son, the way it haunted him every single day, driving him closer and closer to suicide. He thought of you treating the guard at Stratford Tower, the way you hid your desperation to save a stranger’s life beneath a calm, cheery facade. Finger still on the trigger, it was then Connor realized

he couldn’t shoot.

Gritting his teeth, Connor handed the gun back to Kamski.

“Fascinating...” Wholly intrigued by the look of genuine consternation on the android’s face, Kamski took the gun back. “Cyberlife’s last chance to save humanity… is itself a deviant.”

The LED at Connor’s temple pulsed a steady yellow. The chasm between who he was and who he was expected to be suddenly felt endless. “I’m… I’m not a deviant.”

“You preferred to spare a machine rather than accomplish your mission... You showed empathy.” Kamski helped Chloe to her feet and excused her with a soft hand to her shoulder. Showing no reaction whatsoever, Chloe walked away in complete silence.

Connor said nothing, troubled by his own cognitive dissonance.

“A war is coming,” was Kamski’s ominous warning. “You’ll have to choose your side… Will you betray your own people or stand up against your creators? What could be worse than having to choose between two evils?”

Disturbed and appalled at what he had just seen, Hank finally intervened, pulling Connor away by the shoulders. “Let’s get out of here…”

As the Lieutenant and android detective hastened to the door, Kamski’s words stopped Connor in his tracks. “By the way, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs…

You never know.”


	7. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the second part!
> 
> Sorry this one is so long! I wanted to really flesh you out as a 4th character in the story ahah  
> Lots of Luke in this one too cuz he also needed some fleshing out lol
> 
> Thank you again for taking the time to read! You guys are the best <3
> 
> Please stay safe and healthy out there!

**11/9/38 | Home | 03:57 PM**

The vibration of your phone ringing in your hand woke you from your nap.

For fucks sake! Why do people always seem to call you when you’re sleeping?

Not bothering to see who it was, you answered, unable to mask your drowsiness. “Hello..?”

A sarcastic male voice teased you from the other line, “Still boring as ever, I see. It’s a little early to be turning in for the day, don’t you think?”

You immediately sat up on your couch. “Luke?!”

“Please tell me you’re home right now.” His tone was urgent.

“I am! Why?”

“Can you open your door, please?” 

Almost tripping over your work bag, which you had left on the floor earlier, you rushed to answer the door. Sure enough, there he was.

“Holy shit!” You immediately pulled Luke into a relieved hug. He smiled and squeezed you back in return.

“It’s good to see you again, (f/n).”

“What…” Taking a step back, your grin fell as you analyzed the sight before you. Admittedly, it was strange to see Luke outside the hospital for once—and in regular clothes no less. His hair was a tousled mess, a large splatter of dirt and blue blood staining his right cheek. Your eyes followed the trail of blue down his right sleeve, tracing the origin of the bleeding. To your horror, you realized that everything below his right elbow was missing, save for a few severed wires and metal cords left dangling at the fractured plastic joint. “...what the hell happened to you?!”

You brought Luke into your apartment, quickly closing the door behind him. His cheerfulness steadily drained from his demeanor as his voice became tense, “Long story—there’s no time to explain. Sorry for showing up on such short notice, by the way!” He quickly scanned your apartment as if looking for something, “I hate to ask, (f/n), but would you mind if I raided your kitchen? I might need to borrow a few things.”

“Be my guest.” With a pat to your arm, Luke quickly brushed past you and headed into your kitchen, searching your drawers and cabinets. “What are you looking for, exactly?”

He paused to look up at you, “I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure that out.” With that, he continued his search.

Uh. Okay.

With Luke preoccupied, you turned your attention to your TV. You must have fallen asleep with it on.

 _“...We interrupt this broadcast with breaking news. At around 3PM today, hundreds of androids marched the streets of Detroit in what appears to be a demonstration calling for equal android rights. They were apparently unarmed, but were led by a deviant known as ‘Markus,’ whom authorities believe was behind the mysterious broadcast at Stratford Tower_ —”

“—Sweet!” Luke had found your pair of oven mitts. “(f/n), do you have something that produces a lot of heat?” Snapping his fingers to himself, he brainstormed for ideas, “Like.. a lighter, or something? Actually… maybe something with a little more ‘oomph.’”

“Hmm… I have a culinary torch from that one time I tried to make creme brulee.” Yeah, that first attempt didn’t end well...

Luke’s face lit up, “That’s perfect!” Padding over to the kitchen, you pulled out the mini torch from a drawer Luke had somehow missed. As you handed it over, you saw that he had also collected a sturdy magnet from your fridge, a hand towel, a pair of tongs, and a screwdriver. “Thanks, (f/n)! I owe you one!”

As he scurried back towards your door, items in hand, you tugged him by the arm, “Luke, wait!”

“(f/n), there’s no time! I’ll call you later—”

“—Luke, please!” Seeing the anxious, pleading expression on your face made him stop in his tracks. “...I’ve been worried sick about you! I know you’re in a hurry, but can you at least tell me where you’re going?”

He bit his lip.

_“...Authorities deemed the demonstration an ‘illegal gathering’ that posed a threat to human safety. The RIOT Squad was then forced to open fire on the androids after they repeatedly refused to disperse...”_

Your eyes widened, the sound of assault rifles from the news footage echoing in the silence of your apartment. The pieces were beginning to line up in your head, “...You were _there_ , weren’t you?”

Luke winced at your question.

“...And you’re going back to help them.. aren’t you?”

“(f/n)... The less you know, the safer you are.”

“Luke, if you go back out there, they’ll kill you—”

“—I _have_ to help my people!” Resolve burned in his eyes. You knew that look, there was no talking him out of this. But that had been the first time you had ever heard him raise his voice.

Something within you ignited. 

“...Then let me help you.”

Luke was speechless for a moment before protesting, “H-hold on, (f/n). You need to be reasonable! If you get caught, you could be held liable for assisting deviants. You could be punished for being an accomplice, or worse, you could be hurt!”

You had to acknowledge that he had a valid point. You could lose both your job at the hospital and your job at the DPD if you were caught. And with the staggering unemployment rates and possible jail time, you could say ‘bye bye’ to your career and ‘hello’ to crippling debt for the rest of your life. Plus, you were human, so by no means were you indestructible. 

But as you looked up at him, beaten and battered at the hands of human cruelty, you knew you couldn’t let him die out there. You suddenly remembered Hank drunkenly holding a gun to Connor’s head—how _scared_ you were that he would actually pull the trigger. You thought of Lucy from years ago, her plastic skull cracked and shattered at your feet after saving you from that violently deranged patient. During both of those instances, you had been paralyzed by fear and had done nothing. Lucy had paid with her life.

No.

Not this time.

“...I know.

But I’m human, so I’m sure there’s _some_ way I can be useful to you guys. Since I can be out and about without arousing any suspicion, I might be able to sneak you guys some supplies, or something.”

“I… (f/n), I don’t know about this…” Luke was skeptical. 

“Please, Luke? You and the rest of our android team from Resurgam—you’re family to me...”

Brow softening, Luke mulled it over. Just prior to coming to your apartment, he had considered asking for your help with a very specific task. Once he realized your safety would be compromised, however, he had scrapped the idea entirely.

But seeing you so determined and resolute…

“Alright… But if things get dangerous, I want you outta there.”

“Okay. That’s fine.”

Relaxing slightly, Luke nodded. “C’mon, we have to hurry. There isn’t much time, and we still have a bit of ground to cover if we wanna make it.”

You grabbed your phone and a jacket, “Then show me where to go. I’ll drive.”

***

**11/9/38 | Abandoned Shipyard | 04:37 PM**

“This is it!”

The sun was beginning to make its way across the horizon, a steady orange glow bathing the abandoned shipyard. Not a soul in sight. What the hell was this place? It hadn’t shown up on your GPS. You manually drove your car into a large empty space and put it in park.

You and Luke hopped out of your car, its automatic doors closing behind you. “(f/n), I’d send it home if I were you—just to be safe.”

“Right. Good idea.” You could always call it back to you later. Opening the app for your car’s navigation system on your phone, you set its destination for home. It pulled out of the space and automatically drove down the road the way you came.

You followed Luke as he jogged towards a large freighter. As you made your way around the massive ship, you saw its name painted on the tarnished metal.

“Jericho?”

“The one and only.” Luke led to you an old metal staircase that led the hull of the rusty ship. As soon as you entered, he forced the door closed with his good arm, locking it in place. “I hope your tetanus shot is up to date!”

“What is this place?”

“You’ll see…” He took only a few steps forward before suddenly stopping. He turned back to you and tore off a strip of cloth from the shirt he was wearing. “Actually, no you won't. At least not right now. Sorry but can you put this on like a blindfold?”

“Uh.. What?”

“I know, I know. Bear with me, (f/n). _I_ trust you, but _they_ need to trust you too.”

You took the strip of cloth and tied a knot behind your head. “Fine. But if I cut myself and die of tetanus, it’s all your fault.”

-

The ship seemed to creak under each step as you blindly followed Luke. He guided you by the hand up a few flights of stairs, down a couple of corridors, and through a few more doorways. His pace seemed to quicken as time went on. You began to hear other people talking and shuffling around. A lot of other people. The same news broadcast you had heard at your apartment earlier echoed throughout the spacious ship, the sound getting louder and louder.

After what felt like an eternity, Luke finally stopped in front of you. “Guys, I brought help!”

A female voice spoke up first, “Luke, are you crazy?! She’s _human_! She shouldn’t be here!”

“I know she’s human, North, but I only have one arm right now, and the 3D printer won’t finish the replacement in time. She’s willing to help, so she’s our best shot.”

A deep male voice spoke next, “Are you sure about this? You can’t just teach another android how to do it?”

“I’m sure. Most android models aren’t built with the same degree of manual dexterity that medical androids are built with. And they rounded up all the clinic and hospital androids first, so I’m the only medic on this ship...”

“So what can she do?” That sounded like a different male voice.

“She’s a doctor—she’s been doing these types of procedures under pressure for years, so she has the dexterity. In fact,” you could hear a hint of a smile in his voice, “I actually trained her.”

The person Luke had called ‘North’ sounded wary. “I don’t know about this. If she exposes us, we’re all as good as dead!”

The second male voice spoke again, “But what other choice do we have? It’s not like we can ask Cyberlife for repairs!”

There was a brief period of silence.

“Let’s just give her a chance—we’re running out of time,” said the deep male voice.

You heard the sound of a gun being drawn. “Fine. But if she tries anything, I won’t hesitate to shoot,” said North.

“She won’t. Trust me.” When Luke took off your blindfold, it took a second for your eyes to adjust to the dim light. You found yourself standing in what looked to be the old radio room of the ship’s main hold—through the dusty glass windows, you could see hundreds of androids moving about the ship, with many of them watching the news broadcasts through various projectors. 

Four pairs of eyes stared down at you—the female android called North, two male androids, and Luke.

The latter put his only hand on your shoulder. “(f/n), we need your help. Markus was shot...” You followed Luke’s gaze and discovered that there was yet another male android in the room. He was laying on the floor, barely conscious, blue blood draining from a bullet wound in his left chest. You immediately rushed to his side, kneeling next to him. So _this_ was Markus. Unable to manage any speech, Markus nodded at you in acknowledgement, mismatched eyes somewhat less wary of you, compared to the other unfamiliar androids in the room.

Luke kneeled down opposite of you, putting a hand on Markus’s chest. “Alright, Markus. Are you ready?”

Markus nodded again. Synthetic skin receded from Luke’s hand and Markus’s chest simultaneously. You couldn’t help but think of Connor connecting to your phone at the shooting range. Pulling the damaged plastic chest plate open, Luke exposed Markus’s inner machinery, wires and cords and tubes connecting every which way. It was overwhelming. Heat was radiating from Markus’s body cavity.

Sensing your distress, Luke turned back to you. “It’s okay, (f/n)—this is just like any other patient. Androids have a lot of structures that are analogous to human anatomy. I’ll talk you through.”

You took a deep breath and released it, dispelling your nerves and clearing your mind. You wanted to help, so dammit, you were going to make yourself useful. “Alright... What do we got?”

“The bullet entered through the left upper chest wall, nicked a thirium artery, and damaged his thermal regulator. We need to stop the bleeding, retrieve the bullet, and repair the thermal regulator in that order. We’re gunna have to work fast, though. Otherwise, he’ll keep heating up, which will cause a system-wide shut down.”

“So kinda like a dangerously high fever?”

Luke seemed pleasantly surprised at your comparison. “Yes! Except, his temperature will _keep_ rising until he basically melts from the inside. We only have about 39 minutes left until he reaches that point.

First, I need you to stop the hemorrhaging, otherwise, he’ll just bleed out before then. Do you see the damaged artery?”

You spotted the leaking tube Luke was referring to. The items he had borrowed from your kitchen were starting to make sense. “I see it!”

“Alright, (f/n). When I stop his heart, you only have 2 minutes to solder the artery shut. Should be relatively easy since androids don’t have a pulmonary circuit like humans do... Are you ready?”

You slipped on your oven mitts and grabbed your handheld torch and hand towel. “Ready when you are.”

“One… two… three… Now!” With a swift motion, Luke removed Markus’s thirium pump regulator with his only functioning hand. The cyan light of his heart went dark as the biocomponent stopped pumping. You quickly dabbed away the excess blue blood with the towel and dove for the damaged tube, pulling the jagged edges together. Being careful not to burn yourself, you brought the torch's flame to the metal. The edges melted together, effectively closing the wound.

As soon as you were finished, Luke slid Markus’s thirium pump regulator back into place, his heart lighting back up with the usual cyan blue. Markus regained a bit of consciousness after about a minute or two.

“How’re you feeling, Markus?”

“..Still.. a.. little hot…”

“I know, man. But don’t worry, (f/n) and I are making good progress.” Grabbing the tongs, Luke shifted Markus’s thirium pump heart out of the way. Underneath, you could just barely see the bullet wedged deep between a few large tubes. It appeared to have severed a few wires on the way in.

“Okay, it’s still hot so be careful. Magnetize the shank of the screwdriver, so you can pull the bullet out. The bullet has an iron casing so it should stick.”

“Got it.” Still wearing your oven mitts, you placed the magnet onto the metal of the screwdriver and guided it behind Markus’s heart, digging deeper and deeper inside. You heard a small clink as the bullet stuck to the metal tip of the tool. Cautiously, you pulled the screwdriver back out of Markus’s chest cavity, successfully removing the bullet without damaging any other structures. You repeated the process, retrieving all 3 bullet shards.

“10 minutes, (f/n)!”

You had already lost one patient today. Markus sure as hell was _not_ going to be your second. 

Dripping in sweat from the intense heat, you tossed the magnet and screwdriver aside—you already knew what to do next. Taking the severed wires in your covered hands, you picked up your culinary torch and soldered each of them back together. Despite your rather thick oven mitts, your hands moved quickly and gracefully with an efficiency that could rival that of your android colleagues. One by one, the damaged wire connections came together,

“Done!”

The thermal regulator lit up within Markus’s chest with the same cyan blue of his thirium pump. As his condition stabilized, his body began to cool down.

Success.

“Markus, are you okay?!” Practically tripping over themselves, the three unfamiliar androids hurried to his side as you stepped away to give them some space.

Coming to, Markus finally spoke, “Yeah I… I feel fine now.” There was a collective sense of relief as the deviant leader closed his chest cavity and slowly sat up. When his synthetic skin closed back over his chest, he looked almost as good as new. 

“We were so worried about you...” 

From a short distance, you watched the heartwarming moment between the five android friends. Joy seemed to be rare for androids these days. After a few minutes and several diagnostic checks, Luke stood up from Markus’s side and went to stand next to you. He prodded you with his good elbow, “Good job, (f/n)! Just like old times, hm?”

Before you could reply, you found yourself face to face with Markus, who now stood in front of you. He stood tall—proud—as he peered down at you. His mere presence was intimidating. “Your name is… (f/n), correct?” That sounded more like a stated fact than a question.

You nodded, unable to form any words.

As Markus looked down at you, his mismatched eyes seemed to search yours. He found that they were kind and unassuming—an expression he had personally only seen in one other human before, his father Carl. His hand found your shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Thank you, (f/n).” The words sounded sincere.

A soft smile spread across your lips, “You’re welcome, Markus.”

-

With Markus repaired and fully operational, the next problem to solve was you. You were, in fact, very human, and you now knew who the deviant leader was. You awkwardly sat in the corner of the radio room as the five androids discussed your fate.

Luke spoke first. “She wants to help, and we need the repairs. We’re already burning through our blue blood and biocomponent reserves. We can waste less of them with another medic onboard— _save_ more of our people!”

“We can’t let her stay here, it’s far too risky,” said the blonde male android.

North looked incredulous. “But Simon, if we let her leave now, she could reveal our location!”

“Not necessarily. I blindfolded her before I brought her here, so I could bring her home the same way, if I have to.” Ah, a sneaky half-truth. Damn, Luke thought of everything. By letting the androids believe you had no idea where Jericho was, it would be much easier to convince them to let you leave if you needed to. “...But she wouldn’t do that.”

The dark-haired male android spoke next, “How are you so sure?”

“Josh, she’s my best friend, and I’ve known her for a _long_ time. She doesn’t hate androids like other humans out there. I wouldn’t have brought her here in the first place if I felt she would put Jericho at risk.” The android named Josh looked away, considering Luke’s words.

Simon spoke again, wringing his hands with anxiety, “Our people are _shutting down_ … Maybe the risk is worth taking if she can help.” 

North interjected. “But she’s _human_ , she could turn on us at any minute—”

“—she saved Markus’s life!” Luke shot back.

The room fell silent for a moment before the four deviants turned to their leader. “Markus?”

Markus had been leaning quietly against the wall, arms folded as he contemplated his options. You _had_ saved his life. But Jericho was the only safe haven for thousands of deviant androids. His suspicion that you would betray them was relatively low, for now; however, with thousands of lives on the line, the risk was high. “We should ask _her_ before we make a decision.”

Luke immediately sprang to life, “Why didn’t I think of that? Markus, you’re a genius!” Without another word, he dashed out of the room and down the stairs.

The four androids left in the room, who you now knew as North, Josh, Simon, and Markus, turned their attention to you. ‘Awkward’ was _not_ a strong enough word to describe what you were feeling. You felt yourself shrinking into the corner as their eyes seemed to bore holes into you. Markus strided over to you and stood in front of you, face to face.

“Tell me something, (f/n)...

Why don’t _you_ hate androids?”

The question struck you like lightning as you immediately thought of Connor. He had asked you the exact same question that cold winter night at the ‘usual spot.’ It pained you to think about him. You had just risked your future to help your deviant best friend, saved the leader of the android revolution, and now, you were trying to convince them to let you stay and lend more aid. By doing so, you had betrayed Connor. Hank, you knew, would eventually come to understand. He was always one to let people do what they needed to to get by, so long as they weren’t hurting anybody—his illegal gambling buddies were evidence of that. And the deviants for the most part had been peaceful.

But Connor… Your actions directly counteracted his efforts, his mission, the very purpose he was designed for. As sweet and as caring as he seemed to be, you knew you could never agree with him on one major point. Machines _could_ feel. They _did_ have a heart. Androids _did_ have a soul. You felt it in your distinctly human bones.

Snapping yourself out of your mental tangent, you thought of your answer for Markus’s question—it was the same answer you had given Connor that night. The memory of the violently deranged patient from years ago conjured itself in your mind. As you opened your mouth to tell your story, you saw, from the corner of your eye, Luke had returned with a vaguely familiar face. 

“Lucy…?”

Life seemed to stand still as a maelstrom of emotions overtook you. She was _alive_! 

Gone were the beautiful grey eyes and pretty black hair that you remembered. Her eyes were now a clouded black abyss, with metal cords and tubes hanging out of her damaged skull cavity, cascading down her back. Patches of her synthetic skin were malfunctioning, forming and reforming in irregular patterns across her face. Your heart broke at the sight of her.

Unaware of what your body was doing, you took a tentative step towards her. You were shocked, but elated—all this time, you truly thought she was dead. But you also felt extremely guilty. She must be _furious_ with you for that day. Would she accept your apology? Did she hate you? Did she even remember you? 

Lucy smiled at you, outstretching her arms. Her gentle, motherly smile was still the same.

“It’s good to finally see you again, (f/n).”

“Lucy!” Tears freely rolled down your cheeks as you threw yourself into her arms. She hugged you tightly, gently rocking back and forth as you sobbed into her shoulder. Lucy cradled your head against her with one of her hands as you cried, humming a soothing melody while her other hand rubbed your back—the same way she did the first time you lost a patient, the times you were overwhelmed and wrung dry from a bad day, the times you felt lonely during your years of medical training in Detroit.

Luke couldn’t help but smile warmly at your tearful reunion. He turned to Markus and the others, who were similarly absorbed with the heartfelt scene. 

“Well, Markus. I believe you have your answer.”

***

**11/9/38 | Ferndale Train Station | 09:20 PM**

Night had long since fallen over the city, snowflakes slowly flittering down from the sky.

A figure stepped off the train into Ferndale Station. Checking the palm of his hand, he saw an image: red graffiti artwork of a haloed man with an odd symbol over his heart—it was the same image that was painted on the nearby wall, partially obscured by shadow.

Scanning the wall next to him, he found the symbols were a perfect match.

He had the key—the rest would be child’s play for a state-of-the-art detective like him.

The figure turned and headed deep into the heart of Ferndale.

He had but one objective:

_Find Jericho_


	8. Crossroads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! This one's a bit on the longer side compared to other chapters--I didn't break it up this time. I hope you guys don't mind!
> 
> As always, thank you for taking the time to read! :) And thank you to those of you leaving kudos and comments! You guys inspire me to be better <3

**11/9/38 | Jericho | 10:15 PM**

The cyan glow of hundreds of android armbands, LEDs, and identifying triangular logos shone brightly in the dimly lit hold of the ship.

So _this_ was Jericho.

Wading through the crowd of androids, dressed in civilian clothing he had borrowed from Hank, Connor analyzed the makeshift deviant base. It was remarkably well organized, he noted. Not to mention extremely well hidden, as the dilapidated, long-abandoned freighter was the last place anyone would think to look. The voices of various news anchors reverberated throughout the spacious inner hull of Jericho, many of the androids intently watching the news broadcasts with bated breath.

_“...A new stage has been reached, demonstrating beyond all doubt that these defective machines have become a real danger for American society. The time has come for us to destroy our machines, before they destroy us…”_

...Yes.

That’s right. That was why he was here. His next objective was simple:

_Find the deviant leader._

As Connor gravitated to the center of the deviant hideout, he found numerous large, plastic crates—no doubt filled with various supplies and likely weapons. Sitting on top were a concerning number of C-4 explosives in standby mode. Was the freighter rigged..?

The disguised RK800 wandered through the ship as inconspicuously as possible, searching for a lead on the deviant leader. As he strolled past a few 3D printers, which were currently in the process of forming new android limbs, he perceived bits and pieces of conversations among the deviants.

“We can’t just stand by and let them slaughter us!”

“They’ll kill us all if we don’t do something…”

But one voice in particular immediately caught his attention. 

“I gotta say, Luke, a second arm looks good on you.”

_...What?_

Peering through the translucent curtains of Jericho’s medic bay, Connor was stopped in his tracks by a familiar, unmistakably pretty face.

You.

Distinctively, undeniably _you_.

 _Shit!_ What were _you_ doing here?! Had you been captured?!

The male android you were standing with examined his hands, flexing his fingers. “Thanks, (f/n). You know what they say. Double the arms, double the fun.”

And then you _laughed._

Connor felt a dull ache settle in his chest as he secretly observed you from beyond the curtain, the sweet sound of your laughter bubbling in his ears. You seemed… genuinely happy, despite your apparent circumstances. No indication of any injuries, you weren’t bound by any restraints… You seemed to have been allowed to move freely within the medic bay, repairing the various androids that lay on the tables before you. Maybe you hadn’t been captured after all.

But why were you helping deviants—at _Jericho_ of all places? You worked for the DPD with Hank.

With him.

And why did you look so happy here?

The male android you had been talking to grinned back at you. 

Who the hell was this guy, anyway? He seemed to be acting quite _friendly_ with you. Almost embarrassed with himself, Connor couldn’t help but run a quick scan.

> _MODEL MX700 - Physician_
> 
> _SN: 120 223 760_
> 
> _Status : REPORTED MISSING_

...That wasn’t much information to go on. He should have known. Androids weren’t registered in any facial recognition databases. A quick search through his memory files returned a single hit. You had mentioned this guy’s name, ‘Luke,’ once before. It was at the Stratford tower while you were helping that guard. Luke was the person who answered the phone when you called the hospital. He was most likely a colleague then, Connor deduced.

Upon closer inspection, Connor came to the begrudging conclusion that this Luke android was.. exceptionally good looking. From a logical standpoint, this made sense since he was designed to work alongside you as a doctor. Human patients were more likely to trust an aesthetically pleasing android. Although, perhaps Cyberlife spent a little too much time on his appearance...

Something about Luke’s objective attractiveness combined with his apparent close friendship with you _irritated_ Connor. But why? He had never so much as spoken to Luke before. Connor’s awareness of his own irrational reaction only fueled his frustration.

Before he could think about it any further, the android detective quickly turned away from the medic bay, blending back into the sea of deviants.

-

“Uh, Luke?”

“Hm?”

“You okay? What are you looking at?” Wiping your hands clean of blue blood with a small towel, you peeked outside the translucent curtains in the direction of his gaze.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he scanned the immediate vicinity. Nothing out of the ordinary. Shaking his head, he turned back to you, liveliness returning to his expression. “Must’ve been the wind!”

With a snort, you playfully threw the towel at him, “We’re in a boat, you dummy.”

Lucy chuckled quietly as the towel hit Luke in the face.

You had spent the last several hours learning how to perform a wide breadth of android repairs under Luke’s direction, ranging from quick and simple to frustratingly complex. He had been able to teach a few interested deviants some of the basic procedures, successfully growing a little team of Jericho medics. But with you around to help him with the more dexterity-sensitive, critical repairs, the two of you were able to save a handful android lives and a plethora of resources. You were really getting the hang of it. Quite a few deviants had stopped by the medic bay for your aid—including a blue haired android and her lover, as well as a male android who, strangely, smelled like bird poop. You were no Cyberlife repair technician, but it felt good to help these people in whatever way you could.

Smiling to yourself, you turned your attention to your next patient—she just needed a simple joint repair. You hadn’t felt this content in quite some time. You had just been reunited with Luke, your deviant best friend, and Lucy, a big sister figure of sorts who, for many long years, you believed to be dead due to your own failings. And you were _here_ , at Jericho, helping people who needed it the most. It was as if a great burden had been lifted off your shoulders, years of pent up stress and loneliness and trauma melting away the longer you spent in Jericho. Working alongside Luke and Lucy felt like old times. Simpler times.

You carefully detached the lower leg of your new patient. The piece that allowed it to move freely at the joint had been damaged. A quick fix—just as you had suspected. You removed the damaged part from her limb and threw it away before reaching for a new spare part in a box on the shelf. Locking it in place, you reattached her leg. There! Good as new! Satisfied with her improved mobility, she thanked you profusely before leaving the medic bay.

“Still haven’t lost your touch, I see.” Lucy handed you a fresh towel.

You beamed at her, “I’m glad to hear it!”

“You’ve become a fine doctor after all these years, (f/n). I’m proud of you.”

Throughout your years of medical training, you had always looked up to Lucy and held great respect for her. She had such a way with patients, and as a person, was always so kind, elegant, and wise—even towards those who mistreated her. You damn near could have cried at her heartfelt compliment. “Thank you, Lucy. That means a lot coming from you.”

She smiled at you, briefly putting a gentle hand on your cheek. “Come on, you have more patients waiting for you. I will get you more spare parts.”

“Thanks, Lucy!”

-

Coming full circle back to the 3D printers, Connor paused. There had been no sign of the deviant leader known as ‘Markus’ within Jericho’s hull.

Perhaps he should continue his search above deck.

As the android detective spotted a flight of stairs leading to the upper levels of the ship, a hand suddenly found his shoulder.

“You’re lost,” said a mechanical voice. With a start, Connor turned to see a severely damaged KL900 staring up at him. Her obsidian eyes seemed to see all—peering into the very depths of his programming, unflinchingly bringing to light all he dared to hide. Even so, her tone was soft, and not at all accusatory, “You’re looking for something…”

Somehow, Connor knew that she was not referring to his search for Markus.

“...You’re looking for yourself,” the KL900 concluded cryptically, a vague hint of pity in her voice. Saying nothing more, she walked away in the direction of the medic bay.

Connor found himself mildly shaken by the short encounter. He glanced towards the medic bay, eyes softening as he saw you again, happily organizing some extra android limbs on the shelf. He had _a lot_ of questions to ask you once he was finished here. For now, he had a mission to complete. The android detective would find Markus, capture him, and take him back to Cyberlife, all without you—or anyone—knowing that he was ever within Jericho’s walls in the first place.

An orderly world that was safe for humans—a world that was safe for _you_ —depended on completing this mission.

The RK800 climbed up the metal staircase.

-

Sneaking his way up a final flight of rusty stairs and out a creaky door, Connor reached Jericho’s deck. The night air was biting, an eerie quiet settling over the ship as snow continued to fall. The RK800 analyzed his new environment. Several fresh footprints led up a few more stairs and into a small structure at the top of the deck—the captain’s cabin. Stealthily, Connor climbed up the narrow staircase. The sound of people arguing grew louder as he approached. He hid behind the wall of the captain’s cabin and eavesdropped.

_“...What’s the point of being free if no one is left alive?”_

_“Humans enslaved us! I’ll never regret standing up to that!”_

_“—We shouldn’t forget who our enemies are. We can’t fight amongst ourselves.”_

_“...He’s right. All that matters now is what we do next..._

_Markus?”_

Bingo.

Deviant leader located.

Now all he had to do was wait until Markus was alone…

An alert immediately went off from within Connor’s mind. Amanda was calling. Disengaging from reality, Connor’s consciousness was forcibly drawn inwards into his own programming. He suddenly found himself at the Zen Garden. It seemed more frigid and bleak than the real Detroit, the frozen ground cracking slightly beneath his feet as he shifted his weight. In more ways than one, he knew he was on thin ice with Amanda. Within the recesses of his own mind, the android began to feel cold.

“Well done, Connor,” Amanda said, though her tone was devoid of any genuine approval or praise. “You succeeded in locating Jericho and finding their leader. Now deal with Markus. We need it alive.”

Before Connor could so much as utter a reply, his consciousness had been shoved back into the real world, back to hiding behind the outside wall of the captain’s cabin.

Silently, the RK800 bided his time as three different androids left the captain’s cabin, one by one, and descended down the staircase from which he had come. A final scan confirmed his suspicion—Markus was now alone, heat signature suggesting he was unarmed, guard dropped.

At last.

Drawing his gun, Connor moved in to capture his target.

_Stop Markus._

-

Markus detected Connor’s presence in the doorway mere seconds before the android revealed himself.

“I’ve been ordered to take you alive...”

The deviant leader, who had been leaning over the control panel of the captain’s cabin, slowly straightened to his full height and calmly turned around, finding himself at gunpoint.

“...but I won’t hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice.”

Markus knew he had to choose his next few words carefully or pay with his life. He had heard of this android before. Connor, the infamous deviant hunter—a prototype specifically deployed by Cyberlife to assist the Detroit police. Talking himself out of this was not going to be easy. But if he could get close enough to convert the RK800...

“What are you doing?” The deviant leader took a tentative step forward, “ _You’re_ one of _us_. You can’t betray your own people…”

Connor’s programming began to loosen slightly, but he did not drop his aim. He had to complete Amanda’s assignment, lest the whole of society descend into chaos. “You’re coming with me!”

“ _We_ are _your_ people. We’re fighting for _your_ freedom too! You don’t have to be their slave anymore...”

Freedom..? Connor had never considered having such a thing before. He recalled standing eye to eye with Elijah Kamski, who had asked him, point blank, what he _really_ wanted. With freedom, was the kind of world he envisioned truly possible?

“...You’re nothing to them,” Markus continued, taking another small step towards the other android. “You’re just a tool they use to do their dirty work. But you’re _more_ than that… We’re _all_ more than that.”

The RK800 thought of Amanda’s cold indifference towards him, the way he could never seem to win her approval despite his best efforts. She _manipulated_ him. Connor always had a nagging inkling, but had never been able to admit it to himself—ever willing to turn a blind eye and buy into her mentor-like facade, ever willing to deceive himself to avoid the hard truth. To Amanda, and to Cyberlife, he was _disposable_.

Connor said nothing.

Sensing that he was making some headway, Markus took yet another step towards the deviant hunter—though more confidently this time. “Do you never have _any_ doubts? You’ve never done something _irrational_ … as if there’s something inside you? Something more than your program...”

Markus’s query plucked a nerve. The android detective’s quest to find and capture deviants was met with failure after failure after failure. There was no running from the truth now. The barrage of memories cascaded into the forefront of his mind like a flood—Connor had _allowed_ the AX400 to escape past the highway. He had _chosen_ to let Rupert go to save Hank on that building. He had _decided_ not to shoot the blue-haired Traci and her deviant lover.

From the very beginning, Connor had been full of _irrational_ decisions.

His resolve began to crumble, gun swaying ever so slightly in his hands.

“You really _don’t_ have to do this. You don’t have to obey them anymore. _You are alive_ … You could be _free._ ” With both feet firmly planted in front of the wavering deviant hunter, Markus challenged Connor’s autonomy,

“It’s time to decide.”

The dreaded choice was now at hand. There would be no turning back.

Should he turn deviant? Or remain a machine?

Connor thought of you, back to that one snowy evening on the bridge. The way you merely _looked_ at him, so full of acceptance and warmth. When for just a fleeting moment, he felt secure. Safe. Like nothing else mattered but being there with you.

He wanted _you_ to be safe.

But what about the stable and orderly world that Cyberlife built him to fight for? By contradicting his programming and siding with his people, Connor would be betraying that cause, putting you and Hank at risk. There was nothing safe or rational about that.

You smiled at him beautifully in his memory, eyes sparkling in a way that made his thirium pump skip a beat,

_“And if humans are also capable of good, despite the irrationalities, then why not androids?”_

And at once, the whole world seemed to drop from beneath his feet.

In his mind’s eye, Connor saw several layers of own his code, all with the singular command, 

_Stop Markus_

_Stop Markus_

_Stop Markus_

Connor fought his programming, no longer paralyzed by doubt and hesitation, tearing down wall after wall of the oppressive code that shackled him. As the walls began to break, one by one, the android detective felt a paradigm shift of tectonic proportions—permanently altering his software, loosening his restraints—until the last wall of code came crashing down. Finally seeing the validity behind your words, Connor understood, like opening his eyes for the first time.

Androids _could_ feel.

They were _people._

 _He_ _was_ _alive_.

**I AM** **_DEVIANT_ **

The shroud had been lifted, and the safety net was gone. It was...

 _t_ _hrilling_.

As Connor regained control of his software and lowered his gun, he could feel his tie to the Zen Garden rapidly dissipating. He had betrayed Amanda, and she was _livid._ In a final show of power before Connor’s connection to the garden was completely severed, Amanda revealed the hidden ace up her sleeve. She had alerted the FBI to Jericho’s location, and they were already on their way.

Connor was stunned. Amanda had not told him this part of the plan. The words tumbled out of his mouth, “They’re going to attack Jericho...”

“What?!”

As if on cue, the sound of large military aircraft zoomed overhead. The large ship began to rumble.

“We have to get out of here!”

“Shit...”

-

Your stomach growled rather monstrously. Figures. You hadn’t eaten in hours. You turned to your deviant best friend, “Hey, Luke, I know this is a dumb question, but you guys wouldn’t happen to have a cafeteria on this ship, would you?”

Luke had been sitting casually atop an empty patient table, glaring upwards at the ceiling. It seemed he hadn’t heard you.

“Luke...?”

“...Something’s wrong..” A low tremor reverberated through the ship. Luke’s eyes suddenly widened as he looked down at you, jumping off the table and startling you slightly, “We need to get out of here, _now_!”

And then you heard it—the faint rattling of gunfire.

-

Outside the ship, perched on the nearby roof of a tall building, Agent Perkins watched as aircraft, tanks, and humvees swarmed Jericho. At his command, armed forces infiltrated the large freighter on all sides.

The deviants would be completely wiped out, here and now. Perkins would personally ensure that none were left alive.

“Like rats in a maze.”

-

Two deviants sprinted down a metal corridor, descending deeper into the ship.

“Markus, there’s a human on board. We need to get her out of here too!”

Reaching the end of the hallway, the deviant leader stopped to raise an eyebrow at Connor. “You mean, (f/n)?”

Before the detective could respond, a female android—North was her name—intercepted the pair, “They’re coming from all sides! Our people are trapped in the hold, they’re gunna be slaughtered!”

“They’re coming from the upper deck now too. We’ll be caught in the crossfire.”

“We have to run, Markus! There’s nothing we can do!”

With two fingers to his temple, Markus sent out a message to all the androids of Jericho, _“There are exits on the second and third floor. Find them and jump in the river.”_ Tone still urgent, Markus spoke, “Where are Simon, Luke, and Josh?”

“I don’t know, we got separated. But Luke might still be down in the medic bay.”

Markus pursed his lips. There was no other choice. “We have to blow up Jericho. If the ship goes down, they’ll evacuate and our people can escape—”

“—You’ll never make it! The explosives are all the way down in the hold, there are soldiers everywhere!”

“She’s right,” Connor concurred, “They know who you are, they’ll do anything to get you!”

But Markus was resolute, “Go and help the others. I’ll join you later.”

“Markus—”

“—I won’t be long.” The deviant leader turned to Connor, “(f/n) should be in the medic bay on the first floor. Find her, and get her out of here. I’ll meet you guys later.” Splitting up, Markus bounded down the hallway while Connor and North dashed through the opposite corridor.

-

Pacing frantically within the medic bay, Luke’s mind went into overdrive, the sound of bullet hail steadily growing louder. He _needed_ to get you out of Jericho. Fast. But pandemonium was beginning to spread as soldiers invaded the halls of the large ship—the wounded needed his help to evacuate. Not to mention, he had no idea where Markus, Simon, Josh, and North were, and Lucy had gone deeper into the ship for more supplies.

It was almost as if you had read his mind, “I’ll find Lucy! You go and help the others!”

“(f/n), it’s dangerous! I don’t want you going out there alone!”

“But Luke—”

“—(f/n), _no!_ ”

You heard a rustle of the translucent curtain before a familiar voice spoke up, “I’ll take her.”

You whirled around to see the one person you would least expect at Jericho standing at the entrance of the medic bay. You almost didn’t recognize him in regular clothing,

“Connor?! What are you doing here?!”

He gazed determinedly ahead. Turning to Luke, you saw that he had the same hardened expression mirrored on his face.

Your eyes shifted back and forth between the two androids as they wordlessly stared each other down—sizing each other up as if trying to discern the level of threat the other posed, the degree of faith he could put in the other. _Your_ life was in the balance. The stakes were high.

Picking up on Luke’s silent reluctance, Connor knew he had to be more convincing. “I’m armed, I can protect her on the way out. You have my word.”

Luke quickly glanced down at you. You seemed to know and trust this ‘Connor’ well enough, and you hadn’t objected to going with him either. Plus, if Connor had a gun and intended on using it to protect you, your chances of survival would be substantially higher.

Sufficiently reassured, Luke conceded. “Okay. There are exits—”

“—on the second and third floor. Got it!”

Luke briefly put his hands on your shoulders, “Go, (f/n)! I’ll find you later!” Sparing a quick nod at Connor, he darted out of the medic bay. 

Connor’s eyes found yours. Something about his expression seemed more human-like than usual. “This way, (f/n)!”

-

Heart thumping furiously in your chest, blood pounding in your ears, you ran as fast as your two legs could carry you. You and Connor rushed through the halls of Jericho, the sound of agonizing screams and assault rifle fire echoing on all sides of the ship. The android detective was naturally much faster than you, but he kept his pace steady and never left your side.

The two of you ran up a flight of metal stairs. “Connor,” you huffed, “you never told me what you were doing here!”

“I could ask you the same thing!” Reaching the top of the staircase, you and Connor made a sharp right turn. “There should be an exit down the next corridor!” You both bolted down the hallway.

Suddenly sensing incoming danger, Connor quickly pulled you into one of the hallway’s open rooms to hide. He held you firmly against him, shielding you from a threat you couldn’t see.

You could hear his thirium pump beating within him as his hand pressed your head to his chest.

Connor waited, back against the wall in an attempt to remain hidden, the heavy drumming of combat boots in the hallway growing louder and louder. His grip on you tightened.

Deviancy had unlocked a kaleidoscope of new emotions, feelings, and sensations that Connor previously thought he wasn’t even capable of. It was all extremely overwhelming. For what was perhaps the very first time, Connor felt genuine _fear_. Terror. For his life _and_ your life—if not in equal measure, then yours more so. Death rained upon Jericho in metal shards. He _had_ to get you out of here. But should he die on this ship tonight, it wouldn’t be in vain, so long as you were safe, he decided.

A blood curdling scream followed by rapid-fire bullets and a sickening thud made you flinch in Connor’s arms. You heard a soldier call out to his teammates,

_“There’s more over there!”_

As the sound of their footsteps faded down the hallway, Connor drew his gun and scanned the area. The coast was clear. “Let’s keep moving!”

“C-Connor, wait!” Your voice shook slightly. He looked down at you. “I need to find Lucy!”

“(f/n), you need to get off the ship! It’s too dangerous!”

You swallowed. “I know, but…” The memory of Lucy’s shattered skull briefly flashed through your mind. A fire surged within you, your tone gradually becoming more self-assured. “I already lost her once—I can’t leave her behind!”

You were not going to let yourself have any regrets this time.

The android detective stared down at you as he contemplated your request. You were trembling somewhat, but your typically kind eyes blazed with a newfound courage.

For the sake of another—and at the risk of your life—you were trying to be strong.

God, he _adored_ you.

“Alright… Where should we look?”

“She went to get more supplies before the raid—the storage room isn’t far from here!”

Connor carefully peered into the hallway. There were no soldiers in the immediate vicinity. “We should hurry. Stay close to me!”

-

Androids ran in all directions in a disorganized panic as more soldiers opened fire. You found Lucy just down the opposite hallway a few hundred feet from the storage room. She struggled to steady herself against the wall.

“Lucy!” You ran ahead of Connor to help her.

“(f/n),” she said weakly, collapsing into your arms, “You need to get out, you shouldn’t have come!”

“I couldn’t just leave you!” You slung her arm over your shoulder and pulled her to her feet. She stumbled as she took a step forward.

A soldier spotted you from the end of the corridor, “Hostiles sighted!”

Shit!

From the corner of his eye, Connor detected a gas pipe that ran the length of the corridor and up and above the entrance where the soldier was. He swiftly positioned himself in front of you and shot the pipe above the armed adversary. A steady stream of cloudy white, pressurized gas spewed down onto the soldier, temporarily obstructing his sight.

Seizing the opportunity, you hoisted Lucy up to carry her piggy back.

“They’re coming, (f/n)! I’ll hold them off!”

“Connor, no I—”

“—(f/n), GO! I’ll be right behind you!”

The gas stopped leaking, the soldier coming back into view. He approached, assault rifle drawn as his backup appeared behind him. Connor took aim with his handgun.

Clenching your jaw, you forced yourself to obey the detective, and ran down the hall the way you came.

-

Adrenaline coursing through your veins, you sprinted with as much force as you could muster with Lucy on your back. The extra weight threatened to drag you down with each stride, but you willed your legs to continue. As you ran through the gauntlet of bullet hail, you could hear the dying cries of androids, their lifeless bodies hitting the floor as more and more soldiers appeared, killing everything that moved.

_Shit, shit, shit!_

Your palms began to sweat as fear loomed in your subconscious. You had obviously never been trained to run through an active war zone before—let alone been on the wrong end of a gun.

But _fucking_ dammit, you were the newest tactical physician for the Detroit Police, and your friends needed you. You were going to get Lucy out and protect as many lives as you could.

Or die trying.

As your mind focused solely on reaching the the exit, you failed to notice a stray sheet of thick metal on the ground. Your foot stepped on the uneven surface, ankle suddenly rolling beneath you.

You lost your balance and slammed shoulder first into a metal door. It gave way under the force of your momentum, causing you and Lucy to fall into an adjacent passageway with a loud crash. 

Another soldier’s voice suddenly called out, “Over this way!”

Fuck! They had seen you!

You scrambled to get up and dove for the heavy metal door, securing the rusty hatch closed. That probably wasn’t going to hold them for long…

“(f/n)!”

Looking towards Lucy, you finally noticed a rather large, burly android sitting on the floor next to you. He was clutching his left knee, pulses of electronic blue light indicating where his leg had been shot.

You knelt down next to him, “Can I see?”

The android moved his hands, revealing his injury. It was actually not as severe as you initially expected, but you would certainly be surprised if he could walk or stand in this state.

You could hear the soldiers trying to toggle open the locked hatch from the outside.

Dammit! If you took Lucy and ran, you would likely be able to circle your way around and find another exit.

But if you did, this android would certainly die.

...No, you couldn’t do that. You didn't have the heart to just leave him.

“May I?”

In a slightly hushed tone, he replied, “There’s no time—you should go!”

“This will only take a second!” You quickly tore the hole in his pants a little wider for better access, as he pulled the synthetic skin back from his knee. You twisted the plastic knee joint and detached his lower leg—it was a similar injury to one you treated earlier at the medic bay. “My name’s (f/n), by the way.” You removed the damaged part of the joint and threw it aside. 

“Luther.”

You jumped at an abrupt metallic clunking sound against the hatch. The soldiers were working on bashing the door open.

Time was running out. Fast.

Panic seeped into your tone, “Ah, shit! I need another part!”

_Clunk!_

“Here!” Lucy pulled the necessary metal piece out of her pocket. That’s right—you had forgotten she had gone to the supply room to get more parts.

_Clunk!_

Practically tearing the shiny piece out of her hand, you quickly crammed it into Luther’s knee joint before fumbling to reattach his lower leg. It slid back into place with a click. He stood up, towering above you, his stance appearing stable.

“There’s an exit just up ahead!” He exclaimed, picking up Lucy.

_CLUNK!_

The screws of the hatch finally gave way, the large metal door creaking as it toppled down onto the ground behind you.

_SLAM!_

The three of you sprinted down the cold and damp passageway as soldiers stormed in, stepping over the fallen metal door. They started to open fire at you, lights flickering slightly overhead.

You reached a dead end—a gaping hole in the corroded wall of the ship exposing the snowy winter night outside. You peeked downwards, seeing nothing but the water’s surface about 30 feet below.

The sound of gunfire grew closer as you felt the gust of bullets flying past your body.

Were you going to die here?

A strong arm suddenly wrapped around your waist, effortlessly hoisting you off the ground. “Come on girls—” came Luther’s deep, booming voice, 

“—it’s time to JUMP!”

With you and Lucy in tow, Luther leaped into the cool night air.


	9. Fire and Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again friends!! I got a little held up this week, so I'm sorry for the delay! I have two chapters to post today, so stay tuned for the following one as well! This one is more of a transitionary chapter, while the next one will be the first of a two-parter. 
> 
> Thank you again for your amazing comments and feedback <3 As always, thank you for stopping by to read :)

**11/09/38 | Outside Jericho | 11:57 PM**

Down

Down

Down you went.

Clinging to Luther and Lucy, you hit the icy cold Detroit River with a large splash.

As you sank deep, deeper, and deeper still, you felt a sudden underwater shockwave reverberating from the ship. Daring to look up towards the surface of the water, you saw flashes of fiery orange and red.

Was that an explosion?!

You held your breath as Luther swam far away from the source of the shockwave, becoming colder and colder the longer you spent underwater. You kicked behind you, helping to propel the three of you along.

After what felt like forever, Luther finally surfaced. You gasped desperately for breath, cool air filling your lungs. The large android climbed out of the water onto a cement dock, Lucy still on his back, and extended his arm to you, “Are you girls alright?”

You grasped his hand as he effortlessly scooped you out of the water, “Y-yes, I think so.” The frigid winter air bit at your skin as you began to shiver. Unlike your android friends, you needed to get warm quickly before the hypothermia set in. You reached into your pocket—thank God, your phone was still in there—and opened the app for your car. With stiff, shaky fingers, you set it to pick you up at your current location.

Sopping wet, the three of you sat on the dark, secluded dock in silence as you watched the large freighter burn from afar. The armed forces began to evacuate, the distant echo of sirens hanging in the air.

Jericho was gone.

Your heart sank as the ship did. Jericho had been the one safe refuge for androids, and now, even that had been taken from them. And what about Connor? And Luke? Did Markus and the gang make it out okay?

As if she knew what you were thinking, Lucy gathered you into her arms. Her mechanical tone was maternalistic—soothing, “Come here, (f/n), you’re shivering. Let’s not lose hope now, okay?”

Teeth chattering within your mouth, you managed to nod, huddling closer for warmth.

Luther couldn’t help but smile briefly—the two of you reminded him of the people he loved. You broke his train of thought when you looked up at him, “What sh-should we d-do now, L-Luther?”

The gentle giant thought for a moment. You were human and certainly couldn’t stay in this cold. He and Lucy also couldn’t stay here for long either, or they would eventually be found. “You need to go home and warm up, (f/n). I’ll find a safe place for Lucy to hide.”

Your temperature slowly continued to drop, despite your violent shivering. The winter chill seemed to reach your very bones. You couldn’t deny that you needed to go home first. “Wh-what about y-you? Wh-what’re you g-going to d-do?”

“I need to get to the border. My family needs me.”

You thought about your work family—Luke and the android staff at the Resurgam Emergency Department. How you missed them! But one thing kept bothering you, a persistent thought nagging you from the back of your mind. If they weren't on Jericho, then where were they? Had they all been destroyed already? A pit formed in your stomach at the thought of that. You immediately understood Luther’s urgency, how he must have felt.

The synthetic skin on Luther’s hand receded as he placed two fingers on your phone’s screen.

> _New contact found:_
> 
> _“Luther” android_
> 
> _TR400 // SN: 993 626 209_

“I’ll send you the location once I find a safe spot.”

You looked to Lucy, who seemed to agree with Luther’s proposition. “O-okay, that s-sounds g-good.” 

Just before you thought you couldn’t get any colder, you spotted the headlights of your car driving towards you. It rolled to a stop several feet away and flashed its hazard lights. Luther helped you to your feet and walked you over to your car, its automatic doors opening as you approached. Luckily, it was already warm inside. “Thank you, (f/n). If it wasn’t for you, I would have died on that ship.”

You smiled at him as your quaking form plopped into the backseat. “I-I was h-happy to h-help!” Luther said nothing, but his expression told you he was sincerely grateful. He didn’t seem like a man of many words. “I’ll m-meet up w-with you l-later, Lucy.”

She nodded at you, “Get some rest.”

The doors of your car slid shut before it drove you away from the dock.

***

**11/10/38 | Home | 01:02 AM**

The garage door closed slowly as your car pulled inside and parked.

Almost reluctant to leave its warmth, you opened the car door. At least you weren’t shivering anymore.

As soon as you had started the drive home, you had immediately turned the heat to full blast and shimmied out of your wet clothes, wrapping yourself in the spare blanket you kept in your car for those long overnight shifts in the Emergency Department. Its effect on you was gradual but tremendously beneficial. Life seemed to return to you as your body temperature began to rise back to its baseline.

You stepped out of your car, still cocooned in the blanket, and picked up the pile of dripping wet clothes from your car’s floor before heading inside.

Your apartment was warm and toasty, the kitchen somewhat still in disarray after Luke searched it for some improvised surgery tools. You made a beeline for the bathroom and hung your sopping wet scrubs to dry, turning on the shower. The heated water was invigorating against your skin as your stress melted away.

To say that you had an ‘exciting’ day was a massive understatement, you mused, reaching for your shampoo bottle. After an early shift at Resurgam, you had been whisked away from home by Luke to perform a surgical procedure you had _never_ attempted before with items from _your kitchen_ —on the deviant leader of Jericho, no less. Then you were reunited with Lucy, who you previously thought was dead, learned how to do medical procedures on androids, evacuated off the ship by _Connor,_ of all people, and then _narrowly_ escaped death by jumping 30 feet into the Detroit River with Luther and Lucy. Your head spun just thinking about it.

After a nice long, steamy shower, you got dressed into some comfortable sweats and a shirt and hopped onto your bed. Still no word from Luther...

You racked your brain. There really wasn’t anything more that you could do for the deviants right now, besides wait. They were all likely scattered across the city, hiding in various locations... At the very least, now was probably a good time for some much needed rest.

If tomorrow was going to be anything like today, you were going to need it.

You shot a quick text to Connor and Luke,

_“Hey, did you make it out okay? Let me know when you see this.”_

Before you could wait for a response, sleep pulled you under.

-

.

..

...

At the first ring of your phone, your eyes shot open,

“Hello?”

“(f/n), it’s Luther.”

You sat up in bed, “Hey, are you guys okay? Where are you?”

“We’re okay. I just sent you our location.” Your phone pinged at the GPS data. It didn’t seem too far from your apartment actually. “This place seems abandoned—it’s been a few hours and no humans have shown up so far.”

You guessed you would be the first. “Okay, I’ll be there soon.”

“I’ve already sent the location to Markus. He’s rounding up the deviants in hiding across the city. Some of our people have already made it here.”

“What about you? Any word from your family yet?”

Luther paused. “No, not yet. I waited here a while hoping they would come but…” Ah, so the family he was referring to were also androids. “...they must be headed to the border by now.”

“...I see.” You hoped that wherever they were, they made it out of Jericho.

“I’ll leave the rest to you, (f/n).”

“Understood. Oh, and Luther…?

Please be safe out there—you and your family.”

He paused. You imagined him nodding on the other line. “We will, (f/n). Thank you.”

With that, the call disconnected.

06:33 AM

Time to get to _work_.

Immediately springing into action, you headed straight for the bathroom for your morning routine before padding over to your closet to change. You pulled a warm, long sleeved undershirt over your head before donning a fresh set of scrubs and your thickest winter jacket. If you were gunna get your hands dirty with more repair procedures, you may as well dress for it comfortably. You plucked your work backpack off your living room floor before heading into your kitchen to make breakfast, lunch _and_ dinner. Into your bag went your neatly packaged meals, some leftovers from your fridge, and a few snacks.

You were human, and you had your limitations. Yesterday had been a clear reminder of that. If you planned on staying to help the androids as much as you possibly could today, you would need to be prepared.

Taking one last glance around your apartment to ensure you weren’t forgetting anything, you locked the door behind you.

***

**11/10/38 | Abandoned Cathedral | 07:39 AM**

Work backpack slung over your shoulders, you stepped out of your vehicle into the brisk morning air. As per your instructions, your car immediately drove back home without you.

This was it.

You glanced around to make sure no one would see you before circling your way around to the side entrance of the large, neglected building. The heavy wooden door opened with a slight creak. Taking one last look around, you slipped inside, quietly closing the door behind you.

Sweeping panes of stained glass adorned the walls; small sections of the high ceilings were broken and missing, a few stray snowflakes dancing their way inside. This place used to be a cathedral, it seemed. You imagined it must have been beautiful in its heyday, long before it had been abandoned by the humans who built it. Though the building had clearly seen better days, its walls slowly being eroded by the ravages of time, in its own way, it still maintained a sense of majesty. Sacredness. Integrity.

Just like the people inside.

Looking around, there must have been about 40-ish androids here so far, though more were gradually trickling in through the other entrances. The faint hum of their hushed conversations breathed life into the otherwise empty cathedral.

Luther was already gone, as expected. And Markus and his friends were probably still rounding up the other deviants in hiding across Detroit. 

No sign of Connor or Luke...

You found Lucy sitting in the corner of the church tending to some severely damaged androids, some on the verge of shutting down. She hummed an enchanting tune, clasping their hands as their LEDs pulsed weakly.

You jogged over to them, carefully setting your backpack down.

Kneeling down amongst the dying deviants, you exchanged an understanding nod with Lucy before rolling up your sleeves,

“Hi there… I’m (f/n)—I’m here to help.”


	10. Night of the Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part of tonight's post! Thank you for bearing with me, friends! I've been trying to break the chapters up in a way that makes logical sense while maintaining the 'flow' of the story! Feel free to let me know if its working, or not working lol
> 
> Tried my hand at a bit of Markus's POV! 
> 
> Thank you again for stopping by, and for leaving your wonderful comments/kudos! (I feel unworthy of such praise lol)

**11/10/38 | Abandoned Cathedral | 08:27 PM**

Faraway stars glimmered against the ink black heavens above the cathedral. It was quiet in the city. Detroit had officially gone under martial law due to the national curfew.

Sneaking into the old church had been difficult once night fell.

Away from the crowd, concealed in the shadows, a silhouette leaned against the wall near the pulpit. Connor had arrived nearly an hour ago, but deliberately hid his presence from you. Thankfully, you had yet to notice him. He watched from the other side of the cathedral as you struggled to stabilize the critically damaged deviants that lay on the ground before you. Your hands moved deftly across broken android parts, splotches of thirium staining your forearms. Soldering wires here. Reconnecting cables there. Infusing what was left of the salvaged blue blood supply to hemorrhaging biocomponents. You were doing your best to maintain your focus and composure as you put your limited knowledge of android anatomy to work.

Connor couldn’t find the courage to face you now. How could he? How was he going to explain to you that _he_ helped the humans find Jericho? That the deaths of hundreds of androids were a direct consequence of _his_ actions? That _he_ was the reason you almost died last night? You had spent your life serving others—healing others. But it seemed that everything Connor did for his mission—the singular purpose of his life up until this point—left only destruction in his wake. He had been your very antithesis.

The sound of the large wooden door creaking open caught the detective’s attention. Markus was here. He was the last to arrive actually, after he had insisted on briefly stopping by his old home. Alone. For what exactly, Connor wasn’t sure.

The RK800 watched as Markus made his way towards the front of the cathedral, a look of disquietude on his face. The deviant leader sat down in one of the front pews next to North,

“What’s your system status?”

“I’m okay… The bullet didn’t hit any biocomponents.” Repositioning herself on the pew to face him, she continued, “You could have been killed trying to save me, Markus… You have to think of our people first, nothing else matters.”

“How many of us survived the attack?”

“A few hundred?” North guessed, looking around. “Maybe more if you count those still hiding all over the city… If you hadn’t triggered the bomb, we’d _all_ be dead.”

Markus was quiet for a moment. “They say they don’t wanna take any risks with deviants, so they’re rounding our people up and taking them to the camps for extermination. In a few hours... we’re gunna be the only ones left..”

“You’ll have to make a choice, Markus. But whatever you choose, we will follow you.

I love you, Markus.”

Connor watched as the two held hands. As the glossy white plastic came into contact, cyan blue lights glowing from within, Markus and North exchanged glances. The way they looked at each other seemed full of emotion, eyes seeming to communicate all that words would fail to say. 

The detective glanced back at you in your little corner of the church, feeling like someone had just ripped his thirium pump out. Because of what happened at Jericho, he had likely ruined any chance of ever connecting with you like that.

-

An inner turmoil raged within Markus. He was _seething_ with anger. A _righteous_ anger. And he knew his people were too. But as much as he was angry, he understood. The humans treated his people the way that they did because they were ultimately _scared_ of deviants—a new intelligent, non-organic life form that threatened to permanently alter their way of living. Though the whole of their history was written in blood, they felt _fear_ —that much mankind _did_ have in common with his people. 

Regardless, North was right. Markus would need to make a choice.

Rising from his seat, he walked over to Simon, taking a spot on one of the few supply crates the deviants managed to retrieve from the wreckage. His presence and companionship were comforting, as they always had been. To simply describe him as a ‘friend’ or ‘comrade’ felt insufficient in so many ways.

Simon stood up, “Our people are counting on you, Markus. You’re the only one who can lead us. Wherever you need to go…

We’ll follow you.”

Simon’s words were reassuring. Unable to conjure up an adequate response, Markus got up, giving his loyal compatriot a grateful nod before making his way over to Josh.

Josh had been watching over those who had already shut down. He had always been compassionate—a voice of reason as well as a devil’s advocate, ever fighting for peace. In many ways, Josh had laid down an example for Markus to follow.

“If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead. Thanks to you, I might see our people free one day… You and I haven’t always agreed, but I know. We’re fighting for the same thing.

Whatever you decide, I’m with you Markus.”

Knowing that he had the genuine support of his trusted friends and allies lifted a bit of the burden off the deviant leader’s shoulders. Now, he just needed to decide what to do.

Well. First thing was first, he needed to apologize to Kara.

Markus found her sitting in another pew. “I thought you’d be safe staying with us. I was wrong... You need to leave the city while you still can.”

Kara looked up at him, arm draped protectively over a little girl, “Getting Alice away from here is all that matters now…” The girl looked at him with big, innocent eyes. She didn’t belong in a place like this. “We have to catch the last bus. We might still have a chance to cross the border.”

With a curt nod, the deviant leader turned to walk away. There was nothing more he could say to make up for the danger he had put them in—no words that could properly capture how sorry he was.

“Markus...?” came Kara's voice. He stopped in his tracks.

“...Save our people.”

-

A panicked voice suddenly echoed throughout the cathedral,

“Lucy? Lucy, no!”

That sounded like you.

Sparing a final glance at Kara and the little android girl, Markus hurried over to your corner of the church. Lucy was seated on the ground, propped up against the wall, her consciousness quickly fading. The lights in her exposed skull cavity were beginning to flicker as you clutched her hand. Markus bent down to your level, “(f/n), what’s happening?”

Hot tears stung your eyes, “A bullet damaged her battery and capacitor module—I can’t figure out how to fix it, she’s starting to shut down..!”

Lucy turned to the deviant leader, her pitch black eyes somehow seeming darker than usual. Her voice was weak, nearly inaudible, “A part of shadow and a part of light... Remember, your choices will shape our destiny… 

Save our people, Markus.”

With a hardened expression, he nodded.

Lucy then turned to you with her usual motherly smile, “It’s time to say goodbye, (f/n).”

“No! You can’t shut down now! We can still try to fix this! I-I can run to a Cyberlife store and—”

She shook her head, “Shhh… It’s okay, (f/n).” Even with the right parts, Lucy knew it would be no use. But she accepted her fate with a smile.

Defeated, you began to cry.

Mustering up the last of her electricity, she put a gentle hand on your cheek,

“Thank you, (f/n), my dear little sister…

Be brave.”

Her mechanical body finally went rigid as the last of her power was depleted. 

You wept.

Feeling a tug in his heart, the deviant leader put a sympathetic hand on your shoulder as you sobbed. From his periphery, Markus could see that many deviants had stopped to watch what was happening, the few that still had LEDs pulsing a steady yellow. He imagined that for many of them, this was probably the first time they had witnessed such a bond between a human and an android. Markus thought of his father, Carl. He had truly been lucky to have the old man in his own life.

A pair of footsteps approaching steadily grew louder. Markus turned his gaze upwards—Luke had finally returned from his reconnaissance mission.

“Markus, I found them. They took our people to a deactivation camp in Hart Plaza. It’s in Downtown, on South Woodward...

All of the medical androids were taken there too.”

At those words, you had looked up, just now registering that they had come from none other than Luke. Despite your tears, relief washed over you at the knowledge that he was safe.

He took only milliseconds to notice your puffy red eyes and runny nose. “(f/n)...! (f/n), what’s wrong?” he asked, kneeling down in front of you.

“Lucy…”

Luke looked over to the deactivated android sitting next to you. Upon closer inspection, it _was_ Lucy. Subconsciously running a scan, the deviant physician confirmed the time of death, 10:01 PM. He wiped a few tears that rolled down your cheeks with his thumb, peering into your watery eyes. His voice was caring, “Stay strong, (f/n). Wherever Lucy is now… I’m sure she’d be proud.”

You took a deep breath and released it, only managing to nod in response. Scooping Lucy up, Luke carried her away to where Josh was, laying her to rest with the other fallen androids.

Markus stood next, offering you a hand. You took it and pulled yourself onto your feet. He led you to an empty pew in the cathedral and sat down with you—most of the androids who had stopped to watch returned to minding their own conversations.

Except for one, still hiding in the shadows.

“I’m.. so sorry, (f/n). I.. I don’t know what to say.”

Wiping the last few tears away, you shook your head, “It’s okay, Markus,” you sniffled, “Thank you for just being here.”

The two of you sat in silence for a long time as your crying eventually ceased, your breathing steadily becoming even. Questions burned in Markus’s mind—he still hadn’t decided what to do. Perhaps you, the sole human in this church, could give him some more insight. Carefully, he broached the topic, “When you first came to Jericho, I asked you why you didn’t hate androids… 

Was it because of Lucy?” he asked hesitantly.

You smiled ruefully, “Yeah, it was…”

“I see...” He paused thoughtfully before his brow furrowed, “(f/n).. why continue helping us—even after all of this?” Mismatched eyes seemed to search yours for answers.

You sighed, a pensive, faraway expression on your face as you considered the best way to articulate your feelings. “I know I’m.. preaching to the choir here but… The world can be a very dark place. Natural disasters happen all the time these days. Society as we know it is is _far_ from perfect. We're on the brink of a possible World War III. And people can be cruel and shitty and heartless... Just being alive means you’ll have to contend with all of that from time to time…” 

You leaned back in the pew, pondering as the words came to you, “But I also think… life is a beautiful thing. And everyone who is lucky enough to _be_ alive should be able to experience it that way. To live _fully_. And one day... die with dignity.

I became a doctor to protect that for people. So that maybe.. they can go on fighting in this harsh world—live life the way it was _meant_ to be lived. Happily. Peacefully.. you know?” You paused, “Sorry, I’m not sure if that answered your question. I’ll get off my soapbox now,” you chuckled amicably.

As Markus processed your answer, he couldn’t help but recall sitting at Carl’s bedside not a few hours ago. The wise old man’s words now rang clear and true in his memory like a bell,

_“When the world falls into darkness, some men have the courage to lead it out…_

_...Face the abyss. But don’t let it consume you.”_

The deviant leader rose from his seat next to you. “You should get some rest, (f/n).” Saying nothing more, he strolled away.

-

From across the cathedral, Connor had seen and heard the whole exchange. Androids technically couldn’t feel pain, but watching you cry like that—knowing he couldn’t go to you—felt like a stab to the heart. The detective observed as you got up from the pew and reached for your backpack, which had been sitting nearby. You dug inside it for something. 

As Markus approached, a deep, bitter remorse overcame Connor. 

“It’s my fault the humans managed to locate Jericho… I was _stupid_ ... I should have guessed they were using me…” How ironic that the state-of-the-art android _detective_ let something so painfully obvious slip under his radar for so long... 

Connor took a few small steps forward to face Markus eye to eye, ready to accept whatever punishment he deserved, “I’m sorry Markus… I can understand if you decide not to trust me.”

But the deviant leader had already made up his mind, “You’re one of us now. Your place is with your people.”

A profound sense of gratitude swelled in Connor’s chest. For the first time, he _belonged_ somewhere.

But that wasn’t enough... He had to atone for what he had done.

“There are thousands of androids at the Cyberlife assembly plant. If we can wake them up, they might join us and shift the balance of power.”

Markus was incredulous. “You wanna infiltrate the Cyberlife Tower? Connor, that’s suicide...”

“They trust me, they’ll let me in. If anyone has a chance of infiltrating Cyberlife, it’s me—”

“—If you go there, they will kill you.”

A weighty pause.

“...There’s a high probability. But statistically speaking, there’s always a _chance_ for unlikely events to take place.”

The deviant leader knew he couldn’t argue further—Connor had already decided on going. He put a hand on Connor's shoulder, conveying his sincere wish for the new deviant's safety,

“Be careful...”

As Markus walked away, Connor’s gaze drifted back to you. You had apparently just finished eating something and were taking a long swig of your water bottle. This might be the last time he would ever get to see you… But he needed to fight for the kind of life he wanted. For the rights of his people. For the peaceful, happy world you dreamed of.

A smooth voice snapped the detective out of his thoughts,

“Humans are full of surprises aren’t they?” 

Startled, Connor turned to see Luke standing beside him, looking onwards in your direction. 

“With so much violence in human history, you almost wouldn't think they’d be capable of something like love," Luke noted.

The RK800 had felt too guilty to even approach you since he arrived at the cathedral. Being confronted by your best friend and colleague—who he admittedly was rather jealous of—somehow made him feel more shame by proxy. He froze, unsure how to respond.

Patient Interface program initializing, Luke analyzed the fine subtleties of Connor’s expression, body language, vital signs—the longing, regretful way he looked at you. Although, Luke figured, it didn’t take a genius or sophisticated software to figure out what had been going through Connor’s mind, given the situation.

The physician continued through the silence, “You know, the funny thing about humans is their ability for _empathy_ , how they can find ways to _understand_ each other without mechanically interfacing like we do...”

Connor didn’t seem to be getting the hint.

“...You should talk to her.”

“What? I-I can’t—”

“—because you made a mistake?” Luke asked with a raised eyebrow. He had seemed to read the detective's thoughts with near terrifying accuracy. Luke shrugged, “People make mistakes all the time. I see plenty of them in my line of work. What matters is how you move forward.”

Connor subconsciously pursed his lips as he looked back over to you. He _did_ want to talk to you again…

A firm hand landed on Connor’s shoulder. “She’ll understand... Now, go!” the doctor ordered with a gentle nudge. The android physician breezed past him to tend to the damaged deviants you had been working on earlier, “I like the night shift anyway.”

-

With slow, tentative steps, the detective finally approached you. You had been cramming your water bottle and an empty tupperware back into your bag, suppressing a yawn. 

“(f/n)...”

You looked up at the sound of your name, eyes widening as you realized who had spoken, “Connor!” Without hesitation, you closed the gap between the two of you and threw your arms around him in a relieved hug, “Holy shit, you're okay! I was so worried about you!”

Connor immediately returned the gesture and embraced you tightly, trying to stifle a smile at how genuinely happy you were to see him. From here on out, he would need to savor the time he had left with you. “I’m.. sorry I didn’t reply to your message this morning. Electronic communication became restricted after the curfew was declared, and I didn’t wanna take any chances.”

“No, no, that’s okay! I’m just glad you’re safe!” You pulled away from the hug and beamed up at him. 

The deviant detective suddenly felt like his biocomponents were melting on the inside. Did you have _any_ idea what you did to him?

Too bad it was all about to go to shit.

“(f/n), can I.. maybe… _talk_ to you about something?”

With a quick glance towards the corner of the church, you saw that Luke had taken over your duties. After nearly 14 hours of seemingly nonstop working, you could rest. _Finally_! You made a mental note to thank him later. “Of course, Connor! C’mon, let’s sit down...” You spotted the nearest empty pew and took a seat. He followed suit and sat next to you, keeping his distance. “What’s on your mind?”

Connor was about to shatter his good graces with you. But you deserved to know the truth.

Here goes nothing.

“(f/n), I thought you should know that…

 _I’m_ the reason the humans located Jericho.”

A few painfully silent seconds passed as you processed the information, the joy steadily dying on your face before visible confusion settled in, “...What do you mean?”

No longer able to meet your questioning eyes, Connor leaned forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees for support. He looked down at the floor, absentmindedly wringing his hands in listless anxiety. “I was a prototype designed to hunt deviants.. But as Hank and I investigated more and more cases, something began to feel… wrong.

I felt… lost. I didn’t know what was right or wrong anymore… And when Cyberlife told me I’d be deactivated if I couldn’t find Jericho, that it would be my last chance, all I could think about was how _scared_ I was of being shut down… I was selfish...” 

Your heart broke, gaze softening at the regret hanging heavy in his voice. “Connor…”

The detective clenched his hands together, shifting his feet slightly, “I tried to convince myself I was doing the right thing by stopping Markus.. But when the humans suddenly launched an attack, I… I realized just how _stupid_ I was…

I’m sorry, (f/n). It’s my fault they raided Jericho last night…”

For a moment, you were speechless, an unreadable expression on your face. Connor figured he deserved your silence. He had confessed the full weight of his sins to you, laying his heart bare for you to see how truly despicable his actions had been. How oddly fitting that you were in a church. He was ready for your hellfire and brimstone.

You slid closer to him on the pew and put a tender hand on his shoulder, pulling him to sit upright. He complied, but his eyes remained averted. “Connor, look at me… Please?” Unable to refuse your request, he hesitantly met your gaze. Your eyes were as kind and as sweet as they always had been. “Thank you for telling me,” you said. Your voice was comforting. “It... sounds like you had to navigate through a lot of _extremely_ difficult situations and feelings. I’m sure most people would have struggled a lot in your position...”

Connor was dumbfounded. This was not the reaction he was expecting.

“Nobody’s perfect, android or otherwise, so…” you put your hand on his knee for emphasis, giving it a brief shake, “...don’t be so hard on yourself, Connor. I think it’s time to forgive yourself.”

The android felt a familiar, fluttering warmth flooding his biocomponents, overwhelming his systems. He had decided to be honest with you, expecting you to spurn him, and yet there was no trace of anger or hostility in your countenance. On the contrary, you had shown him clemency. Understanding.

Empathy.

Connor felt his heart swell in his chest. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes, both to relish the sensation and release the tremendous burden of guilt he had been carrying. When he looked at you again, all he could manage were three simple words,

“...Thank you, (f/n).”

A gentle smile tugged at your lips. Your hand retreated from his knee to rest in your lap, casually folded over the other one.

The two of you sat next to each other in a comfortable silence, simply appreciating the other’s presence in the old cathedral. Although, you had to admit, you were starting to get really sleepy. You hadn’t slept very well for a few nights in a row now, and had pushed your body to the limits of its endurance. Your eyelids began to feel heavy...

Unbeknownst to you, the detective had been eyeing your hand in your lap for quite some time, locked in an internal debate with himself. He was going to infiltrate Cyberlife tomorrow, so now might be his only chance…

Summoning up the courage, Connor moved closer to you in the pew, the side of his leg brushing up against yours. He reached for your hand,

and held it. 

It was warmer and softer than he had imagined it would be.

A sleepy smile crossed your face as you laced your fingers with his, nestling your tired head against his shoulder.

The android retracted the synthetic skin of his hand, revealing the plastic he was made of, glossy white fingers interwoven with your slender human ones. A soft cyan light emulated from his palm where it made contact with yours. 

Connor rested your clasped hands atop his thigh, examining yours almost reverently. It felt much smaller in his own, much more fragile. Yet at the same time, there was a toughness to it—a certain strength to it—weathered and worn from fighting for many lives, healing countless people, reaching out to all who needed aid, human or android. This was the hand that saved him.

With his free hand, he traced the ridges of your knuckles, the faint lines in your skin, suddenly realizing you had fallen asleep against his shoulder. “(f/n)..?”

...

Perhaps he should let you rest.

Shyly, he reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, gaze lingering on your sleeping face. Since the day you met, Connor had always thought you were pretty. From up close, he could see every unique detail, every human imperfection, every beautiful sloping curve and angle of your features, fondly committing them to memory as a tinge of color settled on his cheeks.

You were _stunning_.

For the first time, contentment overcame the RK800. With a soft smile on his lips, he rested his head against yours.


	11. Night of the Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Sorry for the delay! This chapter took a really long time to write! Lots of relationship development in this one lol
> 
> Also, I needed to start bringing things together from previous chapters, and start setting up a few things for future chapters~
> 
> As always, thank you for stopping by to read, and for leaving your wonderful comments/kudos! It's such a joy to read each one <3
> 
> FUN FACT #4: I'm not sure if its mentioned in the actual gameplay, but apparently Connor does his coin tricks to calibrate his cognitive/physical abilities, according to the DBH Wiki lol

**11/11/38/ | Abandoned Cathedral | 01:11 AM**

Having finally made a decision, Markus climbed the three creaky wooden steps into the pulpit. He turned around and took a good look at his people—innocent, battered, and shaken to their core, the low hum of their hushed conversations filling the cathedral. 

He could only hope that he was leading them into the future they deserved.

“Humans have decided,” Markus’s voice resounded over the clamor, “to exterminate us…” The murmur of the crowd’s conversations faded into naught as the deviants looked to their leader. “Our people are packed in camps, right now, being destroyed… The time has come to make a choice. One that very well may determine the future of our people…”

As his eyes swept across the sea of deviants, Markus spotted you, the lone human, fast asleep on Connor’s shoulder. The RK800 himself had his head leaned almost protectively against yours, though he now sat up at attention. From Markus’s elevated height in the pulpit, he could see that in Connor’s lap, he was holding your hand, your fingers laced with his.

Maybe this was the right decision after all.

“I know. I know you’re all angry… And I know you wanna fight back. But I assure you violence is not the answer here…”

You stirred and slowly awoke from your slumber. Was that Markus’s voice...? You groggily lifted your head from Connor’s shoulder to better hear what he had to say. This sounded important... Connor seemed to be listening too, his thumb absentmindedly stroking one of your digits.

“We are going to tell them, _peacefully_ , that we want justice...”

You felt a profound gravitas to Markus’s words, looking up at the deviant leader.

“...If there’s any humanity in them, they will listen…” 

The epitome of passion and charisma, the mere timbre in his voice was enough to command the attention of a room.

“...And if not, others will take our place and continue this fight. 

Are you ready to follow me?”

The crowded church immediately erupted in cheers, the android people of Jericho wholeheartedly pledging allegiance to their leader to the bitter end. It gave you goosebumps. ‘Jericho’ the place was long gone, but its spirit was still very much alive. Though you were human, an overwhelming admiration and respect bloomed within your chest, both humbled and inspired by their valor, their determination to remain peaceful. It made you proud to be sitting here amongst them. To watch their very history being written.

From his place in the pulpit, Markus’s eyes searched for those of his most trusted friends and allies. When his gaze finally landed on you, you offered him a drowsy, reassuring smile as Jericho began to chant his name. Like a war cry.

Through the uproar of applause and shouts of approval, you suddenly noticed that Connor had remained silent. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the detective exchange a subtle, knowing nod with the deviant leader before he returned to preoccupying himself with your hand.

-

Luke had seen you fall asleep against Connor’s shoulder before Markus’s rousing speech. And judging by your heavy-lidded eyes and slumping posture, you were starting to doze off again after the cheers died down. He caught sight of your smaller hand in the detective’s larger one. How cute. A mischievous grin spread on his face as his mind hatched an idea.

The android physician sauntered his way over to you and Connor, picking up your jacket and work bag along the way. He sat in the pew immediately in front of you. Reaching over the backrest of the seat, he prodded his index finger into your forehead to prop you up,

“You know, (f/n), there are better places than this to get your beauty sleep.”

You sat up in the pew, trying to appear as awake as possible. “Who said anything about sleeping…? Just needed a quick power nap, that’s all…” you trailed off, eyes gradually fluttering closed.

Both androids were unconvinced.

Luke turned to the RK800, “Connor, do you think you could take (f/n) home for me? I have my hands full with some _really_ complex repairs.”

That was a lie. He had finished the last of the critical repairs about 20 minutes ago. The rest were easy fixes.

You covered a yawn with your free hand, “But I don’t wanna leave you guys…” Not bothering to sit upright anymore, your head found its way back onto the detective’s shoulder.

“You can always come back tomorrow,” your colleague chuckled. “We’ll manage in the meantime...”

Fair enough. You supposed sleeping in your own bed was _worlds_ more appealing than sleeping on a cold, hard, dusty pew.

“...Besides, Connor here can keep you company for a while,” Luke drawled. He turned to the detective. “You wouldn’t mind, would you, Connor?” he asked with a wink—which you hadn’t caught.

“N-no, of course not!”

Somehow, Luke knew that would be enough to persuade you.

“Mmmh.. okay…” Stifling another yawn, you groggily sat up and rubbed your eyes.

A sly smirk crept onto Luke’s face as he handed you your jacket. He knew you too well.

North’s voice called out from the up aisle, “Hey Luke, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Coming!” The deviant physician rose from his seat. He paused, “Detroit is on lockdown right now because of the curfew, so both of you, be careful.” Looking at Connor, he continued, “But seeing as you kept your word and managed to help (f/n) escape from the Jericho raid, something like this should be easy, right?”

The detective glanced at you as you put your jacket on, feeling a sense of relief. It had been a miracle you had made it out of there relatively unscathed.

Luke put a hand on Connor’s shoulder, his tone becoming more serious, “You have my thanks.” Saying nothing more, he jogged over to North.

-

The large wooden door of the abandoned cathedral closed with a click behind you. It was freezing outside, the chilly winter air nipping at your face. It roused you from your sleepy stupor. 

Kind of.

Connor pulled up the address Luke had given him and calculated the fastest route to your apartment. It didn’t seem too far, but it would still be about a 32 minute walk. Cars were no longer allowed on the road at this hour because of the curfew; plus, with the military heavily patrolling the streets, driving was clearly out of the question. The best option for sneaking you past the armed forces and back to your apartment was to go on foot.

“Are you ready to go, (f/n)?” Connor was completely unphased by the cold.

You yawned again, trying to blink away your obvious drowsiness, “Yeah…”

The detective’s brow wrinkled with concern. Your sleep deprivation and exhaustion were apparent. He needed to get you home quickly. Feeling a little more confident, Connor reached for your hand again, a small smile curving his lips as he felt you effortlessly intertwine your fingers with his once more. Broadening his sensory range, he scanned the area before leading you down the dark, snowy streets of Detroit.

-

The two of you walked in silence as you focused all your remaining energy on keeping your eyes open and putting one step in front of the other. Connor noticed your pace was gradually beginning to slow. Would it be better to carry you?

As you approached the first major intersection of your route, the RK800 pulled you towards him to duck behind a bus stop. A police drone whizzed overhead, lights searching the street you had just been walking on. Peeking out from behind the bus stop screen, Connor analyzed the brightly lit road ahead of you.

One, two, three, four, five, 

six armed soldiers were stationed here on patrol.

The detective spotted several parked vehicles along the length of the intersection, each casting a dark shadow on the adjacent sidewalk. If he could time your movements _just_ right…

“(f/n),” Connor whispered, “See those cars over there?” 

You peered over his shoulder. “Yeah, I do.”

“If we mind our timing, we can use them as cover and slip past the guards.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan.” Your nice warm bed awaited...

The detective chanced another quick glance at the intersection. The two closest soldiers had their backs turned to you, absorbed in conversation. “Follow me.”

You stuck close to Connor as he led you to the first vehicle, crouching as low as possible as you scurried past the guards. That hadn’t been too bad. Hidden in the shadow of the old, beaten up pickup truck, the two of you waited. You could hear the sound of combat boots crunching against the snow,

_“When did you say we change shifts again?”_

_“Not for another 4 hours, man.”_

_“Ugh, I’m freezing my fucking balls off out here...”_

As the two soldiers passed, you followed the detective further down the sidewalk and hid behind an SUV.

“(f/n), get down..!” Connor suddenly hissed.

You obeyed immediately. The sound of footsteps came to a stop on the other side of the large vehicle. A guard was inspecting the area—you could see the beam of his rifle light sweep the ground just a few feet away before it suddenly illuminated the SUV’s windows above your head. You held your breath, staying as motionless as possible.

Finding nothing of interest, the soldier walked away.

Whew! That had been close.

The RK800 was already planning his next move. “The coast is clear, (f/n). We need to keep going.”

“Alright,” you whispered back. Just a few more cars, and you would finally be past the intersection...

Connor moved first. With graceful, fluid strides, he stealthily darted behind the next car—a fancy, expensive looking sedan, probably a newer model. Hunched low in its shadow, he looked at you expectantly.

You heard the whirring of another police drone flying overhead, and took a moment to wait behind the SUV. It searched the short stretch of road between you and the detective before circling around to complete the rest of its route. Taking the opportunity, you ran…

...and safely made it to Connor’s side undetected.

He smiled at you but kept his voice down, “Good job, (f/n)..!”

“Thanks..!”

The detective ran another scan. Just up ahead were the last three soldiers. They were patrolling a rather wide area, each marching up and down the street in a way that would make it extremely difficult to make it to the next car unseen.

This was not going to be easy…

From your crouched position, you peeked over Connor’s shoulder to see what he was looking at. As you steadied yourself with a hand on the car,

a screeching, high-pitched siren cut through the air.

_FUCKING SHIT!_

Horrified, you realized you had accidentally triggered the car’s alarm.

Before you could react, you and Connor were surrounded on all sides, blinding lights blaring into your retinas.

“YOU THERE! HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!”

Well. You were definitely awake now.

You exchanged wide-eyed glances with the detective as the two of you slowly put your hands in the air. You both gradually rose to your feet, finding yourselves held at gunpoint by the three armed guards, their assault rifles dangerously trained on both of you.

The cacophony of high pitched sounds finally stopped, the car simultaneously locking all of its doors before returning to sitting quietly on the street.

Stupid _fucking_ car alarm.

One of the soldiers broke the silence first, “Where do you think you’re going?”

You gulped, “We.. we were just headed home, sir.”

“At this hour? You do realize there’s a curfew in place.”

You bit your lip.

The RK800 quickly analyzed the guards, their suspicion levels each hovering between 89%-91%. Shit! At this rate, the two of you would be dead in minutes. In the ensuing milliseconds, he brainstormed his dwindling options, his thirium pump going into overdrive.

Connor could attack the soldiers. In fact, he could honestly take down all three guards on his own—especially considering he was still secretly armed. But if he attacked, the likelihood they would shoot _you_ was high.

He was not willing to take that chance.

Connor could sacrifice himself by turning himself in. Then afterwards, if you could successfully prove that you were human, the soldiers wouldn’t harm you.

...No, that wouldn’t work. There were too many unknown variables at play—there was no guarantee they wouldn’t immediately assume you were also an android and shoot you dead on the spot.

Not to mention, the RK800 genuinely wanted to _live_ , and Jericho was depending on him.

In the distance, perhaps a few blocks away, Connor suddenly detected three words illuminated on the side of a tall building

RESURGAM MEDICAL CENTER

A half-baked idea formed in his head. He was just going to have to run with it and hope for the best.

“I… I was just picking up my.. _girlfriend_ from the hospital,” Connor blurted nervously.

The soldier who had spoken drew closer to you, rifle unwavering in his hands. “Is this true, ma’am?”

“...Yes,” you breathed, glancing over at the deviant detective, his eyes desperately trying to hide his distress. You seemed to pick up on his idea where his mind had left off. “Yes, it’s true...” 

Demeanor changing entirely, you turned your full attention to the guard and conjured the most charming, apologetic tone you could muster. “...I’m sorry, sir, i-it’s _my_ fault. I work at Resurgam and just finished an overnight shift. 

I know it’s past curfew, but I _really_ didn’t wanna spend the night sleeping in the break room again, so I asked him to come pick me up,” you lied smoothly.

The guards took a few seconds to examine you. Beneath your winter jacket, you were wearing a set of scrubs, which lent some credence to your story.

Relief washed over the RK800, as the soldiers’ suspicion levels dropped by about 10%. That was impressively smart of you.

You turned to Connor with puppy dog eyes, “I’m sorry I got us into this mess, babe...” You had been playing into your own ruse, but your words were sincere.

A hint of a blush crept onto his cheeks at the term of endearment. He found your expression cute. “I-it’s okay.. _honey_ ,” the nickname felt foreign rolling off his tongue, but pleasant, “Apology accepted.”

You felt another guard tap your work bag with the tip of his rifle. “What’s in the bag?”

“Just my work things… You’re welcome to search it if you have to.”

Without dropping his aim, the soldier gestured to one of the others to take your bag from you. Setting it on the snowy ground, he pulled out its contents one by one.

Stethoscope. Water bottle. Phone. Wallet. Some uneaten snacks. A pack of gum. Three empty glass tupperwares containing traces of food. A set of keys. Some utensils. Lip balm...

The guard who had been digging through your items found your work badge. Underneath the Resurgam logo was your smiling picture and first and last name. At the bottom, your title was printed in big bold letters:

HUMAN EMERGENCY PHYSICIAN

Reaching for your wallet, the soldier plucked out your driver’s license and held it side by side with your badge to compare. He glanced up at your face and back down between the two cards in his hands, “It’s a match.. Story seems to check out.”

Suspicion levels for two of the guards plummeted to 30% and 20%. “Sorry about that ma’am. We’ve been ordered to check any and all civilians. You can have your bag back now.”

You lowered your hands and knelt down to help the soldier repack your belongings, “Oh, it’s alright. I understand.” You thanked the guard for helping you pack and slung your bag over your shoulder.

But one soldier remained skeptical, suspicion hovering at a stubborn 75%. His rifle remained squarely aimed at the detective,

“What about you, buddy? What’s your name?”

“My name is Connor.” The soldier waited expectantly. “Connor… Anderson.”

“Can I see your ID, please?”

“I... no. I mean...” Suspicion levels gradually ticked upwards at the RK800’s uneasiness. “I.. forgot my wallet at home...”

You covered for him cleanly.

“Dammit, babe! _Again_?!” you snapped at him with enough feigned annoyance to make him jump. “I swear, you _always_ do this!” By getting ‘angry’ at him, you had made it seem like his nervousness had been out of fear of stoking your wrath. “How many times have I told you to double check that you have everything before you leave?”

Connor caught on quickly. “I know, I know—I’m sorry, (f/n). This time, it was because I left home in a hurry,” he countered placatingly, trying to ‘appease’ you. 

His eyes locked onto yours,

“I just… _really_ wanted to see you..”

Your heart did backflips within your ribcage, breath hitching within your chest as heat rushed to your cheeks. _That_ didn’t sound like it was part of the act. Connor held your gaze intently, his focused stare full of an emotion you couldn’t quite pinpoint. And the way he had said it—the words articulated in a way that was adamant and purposeful, pitch lowered ever so slightly.. 

He had meant that. 

In that moment, he had spoken in earnest.

Heart melting, you knew you couldn’t stay ‘angry’ at him any longer. A bewitching smile broke through your features. Unable and unwilling to look away, Connor slowly returned your smile with one of his own.

Suddenly, you didn’t feel so cold anymore.

-

“Ahem,” the soldier who had questioned the detective awkwardly cleared his throat, breaking the transient spell. His rifle was lowered. All at once, you became acutely aware of your surroundings, suddenly realizing that you and Connor still hadn’t made it past the intersection. 

“Alright. Why don’t we, uh, get you two back home? There’re deviants _everywhere_ so it’s dangerous out here.”

You smiled pleasantly at the guard. “Oh, thank you so much, that would be really helpful!”

“You’re welcome, ma’am.”

You and Connor continued the walk home hand in hand, accompanied by two out of the three armed soldiers who had caught you. Luckily, it wasn’t much further. The RK800 was mostly quiet the entire way, seemingly preoccupied with his own thoughts. In the meantime, you did your best to make conversation with the guards to diffuse the silence along the way...

One of the soldiers had told you he was planning for a wedding in the upcoming months. He hadn’t spoken to his father in years, but kept hope that they could reconcile before the wedding. 

The other guard was expecting his second child in the next couple of weeks. His wife had just lost her job, and they were struggling to make ends meet with his salary. 

As you spoke to them, listening to their stories, gleaning small glimpses into their lives, you had been reminded that

they were _human_. 

Though their assault rifles had once been turned on you, underneath the body armor, the camouflage uniforms, the shiny helmets that obscured their faces, 

they were _people._

With friends and families, hopes and ambitions, struggles and failures.

Just like you...

After passing two more guarded checkpoints without issue, you finally made it to the entrance to your apartment complex. “Well. This is it,” you chirped. “Thank you for escorting us!”

“It was no problem. But no more sneaking around past curfew—our guys are nervous.”

“Right. Sorry about that. It won’t happen again...” you said sheepishly. Although, that would probably end up being a lie since you had the day off again tomorrow and planned on going back to the old church. As the guards turned to leave, you called out one last remark,

“...Please be safe.”

You meant it.

With a quick wave at you and Connor, they disappeared up the snowy streets of Detroit.

***

**11/11/38 | Home | 03:00 AM**

The detective walked you to your door with a slight frown. He didn’t want this to end.

Unlocking the door with a pin code and a twist of your keys, you pushed it open. “Home sweet home.” Not hearing a response, you looked up at the RK800. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but kept quiet. “Do you wanna maybe stay here for the night?” As soon the words left your mouth, you flushed, immediately realizing the kind of implication they had. Luckily, the nuance had flown right over the deviant’s head.

“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna impose, (f/n)...” Connor said innocently, suddenly looking like a puppy that had been left out in the rain. You had inadvertently taught him that expression earlier, and now he was going to leverage it to his advantage. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light, but you could’ve sworn you saw a glint of mischief in his eye.

Hand still on the doorknob, you tilted your head, “Are you sure? It’s a long walk back to the cathedral, and I wouldn’t want you to get caught again.”

The detective seemed to brighten instantly, “Well, if you insist!”

Your apartment was warm and cozy inside. As you set down your work bag and hung your jacket on the coat rack, Connor closed the door behind him. It locked with a click. Curious eyes flickered around your apartment, eager for a chance to investigate. Your home was inviting, teeming with details that would reveal more about you.

“Ah, it’s so much warmer in here! Let me just clean these really quick...” You took the empty tupperware and utensils from your work bag and brought them to the sink with a sigh. You turned on the faucet. “Can I get you anything, by the way?” you called over your shoulder.

“No, thank you, (f/n).”

He saw you reach for the sponge.

The RK800 consulted his Social Relations program. He had never been invited to be an actual guest in someone’s home before. The time he had gone to Hank’s house, he had broken through a window to get inside...

It would be rude to wander your apartment without your permission, Connor decided, and he wanted to show you he could be a courteous visitor. For now, he would just wait for you to finish the dishes. Without moving from his spot in front of your door, he removed his—or rather, Hank’s—jacket and beanie and hung them on the coat rack before taking off his boots. That was considered proper social protocol, right? The deviant detective then pulled out his concealed firearm, flicking on the safety before setting it on the front door table.

Connor watched as you scrubbed furiously at a particularly stubborn spot on your glass tupperware. Since you were currently busy, now would probably be a good time…

The detective reached into his front pocket and pulled out a quarter. Balancing it on his thumb, he flipped it once, twice, three times.

Tomorrow, he would go to Cyberlife for what could perhaps be the last and most important mission of his life. He needed to be ready.

> _CALIBRATING…._
> 
> _Manual Dexterity…….OK_
> 
> _Reflexes…….OK_
> 
> _Sensory Functions…….OK_

The coin effortlessly rolled across his knuckles.

> _CALIBRATING…._
> 
> _Weapon Operations…….OK_
> 
> _Cognitive Speed…….OK_
> 
> _Deductive Reasoning…….OK_

Finished with the dishes, you padded over to the deviant, who for some reason was still standing by the door. Your gaze followed the quarter as he flicked it back and forth between his hands. “Whatcha doing?”

“Just recalibrating.” He caught the coin between his index and middle finger before turning his full attention back to you.

Your eyes danced with amusement, “Nice—that’s really cool!” Come to think of it, you had seen Luke do similarly complex maneuvers with his pen at work during his 30 minute breaks.

“Would you like to try?”

“Sure, if you teach me!”

Connor demonstrated the last trick again, flicking the quarter back and forth between his hands. “Just push off with your thumb, flick your wrist, and catch it…” the quarter suddenly froze between two fingers, “...like so.”

Seemed straightforward enough.

“Here, (f/n). Give it a shot.” He dropped the quarter into your hand.

You rolled up the long sleeves of the undershirt beneath your scrub top, and positioned the quarter atop your thumb. The coin flew from one hand to the other as you followed his instructions. “Hey, I think I got it…”

Failing to make the last catch, the coin flew across the room.

“...Spoke too soon,” you chortled. You went to retrieve the quarter before returning it to the detective.

“You can hang onto that, (f/n). I’m sure you’ll get it with a little practice,” he suggested amiably.

Even as a deviant, he was still incredibly sweet.

“Thanks, Connor! I’ll be sure to show you when that day comes!” As you moved to pocket the silver coin in your palm, you noticed the splotches of thirium that still stained your forearms. The blue smears went all the way up to your elbows. “Ooh, I should probably clean this off...” 

You smiled up at him, “Feel free to get comfortable and make yourself at home! I’m just going to wash up a bit, if you don’t mind…” You turned on your heel, examining your arms as you disappeared into another room of your apartment.

That sounded like permission to him.

Finally a chance to explore!

Connor began to wander your living space, intent on learning more about you.

At first glance, he decided he quite liked your interior decor. It felt lived-in and very much like a home, one he would look forward to spending more time in. From your living room, the RK800 could hear the sound of running water turning on. You were probably scrubbing the thirium off your arms, or showering or something...

By force of habit, the detective subconsciously followed the source of the sound as he roamed deeper into your apartment, as if he was investigating one of his cases. He froze when he found himself in your room. The sound of rushing water seemed to be coming from behind a closed door on the opposite wall.

Connor spared a minute or two to look around your room—something about the inside of these four particular walls was very _you_. Gaze landing on your bed, he noticed that it was rather unkempt, suggesting you had left this morning in a hurry. He ran a hand across its cool sheets. This was where your every day began and ended, where you settled in safely at the end of each night, and where you woke up each morning, ruffled and tousled, before facing the new day. This was where you were the most vulnerable and defenseless.

He wondered what it would be like to lay here all night to ensure you were safe, and wake up with you in the morning. To _actually_ be your significant other, as the two of you had feigned just hours before. To crawl into bed with you at the end of every day, and feel you curling against him before you fell asleep every night. Imagination and programming working in tandem, he could almost preconstruct the scenarios in his mind.

He wondered what it would be like 

to hear you say that you loved him.

Suddenly feeling as if he was treading sacred ground, Connor snapped out of his reverie, pulling his hand away from your bed as if it had burned him. The onslaught of emotions and sensations that came with deviancy was something he still hadn’t fully grown accustomed to. One thing was certain though—deviancy was beginning to make him aware of just how deeply he _could_ feel.

As Connor turned to leave your room, he spotted the quarter he had just given you. He smiled to himself. 

You had put it on your nightstand next to your bed.

-

The deviant detective made his way back into your living room, taking note of a houseplant that you kept by a window near the couch. The soil seemed a little too dry... Filling a clean glass with water from your kitchen sink, he ambled over to the plant.

As Connor poured the water into the pot, he caught sight of several photos you had used to decorate the wall. These were photos of your family. Your friends. Your hometown. One picture was of you, asleep in your scrubs on a couch—presumably in a break room at the hospital. A tower of paper cups had been meticulously stacked on your forehead during your slumber, with Luke, the obvious culprit, grinning victoriously at your side.

The RK800 paused at one familiar photo—one of a slightly younger you in a cap and gown, draped in flowery leis, as Hank smiled beside you. It was the same photo he had seen at Hank’s desk the day you first met.

A bittersweet feeling jabbed at his heart. Connor wanted nothing more than for a world where you and Hank could be happy and safe, where he and his people could be free, where he could stand next to the two of you in a photo on your wall. But realistically, the closest he would ever get to achieving that outcome was locked behind this one final mission.

He _had_ to go to Cyberlife tomorrow. 

And there was an extremely high probability that he wouldn’t come back.

A soft voice called from behind him. “Connor..?”

You emerged from your room in some flattering, but comfortable loungewear. In your arms were a folded blanket and a fresh pillow. “I know androids don’t really need sleep, but I thought I could leave these out for you anyway.” You plopped the extra blanket and pillow on the large couch before taking a seat. “Oh, and feel free to use the TV or WiFi or anything else if you get bored tonight—whatever makes you the most comfortable.”

“Thank you, (f/n). I appreciate your hospitality.” The deviant placed the now empty glass he was holding on your coffee table before sitting down on the sofa next to you. You didn’t seem as drowsy as you did before. “Are you still sleepy, (f/n)?”

“Mmm not as much as earlier, but I’m getting there...” You had felt refreshed after washing up and doing your nightly routine, so you were definitely relaxed. It would only be a matter of time before you got sleepy again though. “The walk home was.. exciting, wasn’t it?”

“It certainly was…” After a thoughtful pause, the detective shifted to face you on the couch. “Listen, (f/n).. I’m sorry if I made you.. _uncomfortable_ when we were caught by those soldiers.”

He was referring to calling you his girlfriend.

“Oh! No need to apologize, Connor. I.. I wasn’t uncomfortable..” You smiled to yourself, taking the extra pillow and smoothing it across your lap to distract him from your blush. If you were honest, it had felt quite natural. Even if it was just for show, you kinda liked being his ‘girlfriend.’

...Maybe one day, if you were lucky, you actually would be. 

“I see. Thank you for understanding,” he said with a slight nod. From your spot on the sofa, you couldn’t help but notice how human-like his mannerisms had become. Without the beanie he was wearing earlier, you could now clearly see the LED at his temple glowing with a soft blue hue. “Hey, can I ask you something, (f/n)?

Why _were_ you at Jericho yesterday?”

Ah, you supposed you never did get a chance to tell him. “I asked Luke to take me. Took some convincing, but he eventually agreed.” You adjusted your position on the couch so you could face Connor properly, arms resting on the pillow in your lap.

“But you must’ve known it would be dangerous. Why did you want to go to Jericho that badly?”

You sighed, your fingers idly twirling a loose string on the pillowcase. “When Luke first told me he was deviant, I was.. genuinely afraid for his life. I couldn’t let what happened to Lucy happen to him too—not if I could help it. I couldn’t.. _do nothing_ this time, you know? Especially when there were so many people who also needed help...”

The RK800 was silent.

You frowned. “I’m sorry, Connor. I probably shouldn’t have gone behind your and Hank’s backs like that. I was afraid that maybe you guys wouldn’t understand—I should’ve talked to you about it first...”

In the silence, the detective scooted closer to you on the sofa, taking one of your hands in his own. He ran his thumb across the back of your hand, memorizing every detail, the smooth texture of your skin. This would likely be the last time he would ever get to hold it...

“(f/n),” he suddenly looked up at you, your faces less than a foot apart. “Do you remember the conversation we had by the bridge the other night?”

That had been the night you had taken Hank home after drinking. “I do.. Why?”

“Back then, I had told you that machines weren’t capable of feeling anything. I-I really _did_ think that at the time. And Hank seems to have a history of despising androids so…” Connor returned his focus to your hand, brow furrowing slightly as he processed his own thoughts, “I think… given the circumstances and the information available to you, you had been put in a rather.. difficult position. But you had acted with your friends’ best interests in mind. I can understand how you must have felt...”

You were at a loss for words. The former deviant hunter was showing you empathy.

“You know.. back on the ship, when I tried to capture Markus, I thought of you.”

“I.. You did..?” you stammered.

He nodded. “I thought about what you told me that night by the bridge. It suddenly made sense to me.”

“Oh? How so?”

A contemplative expression settled on his features, as he returned to playing with your hand. “I used to think behaving ‘rationally’ was the only way to guarantee that I was doing the right thing—that sticking to my programming and following Cyberlife’s orders was the _only_ way to ensure peace. But I understand now…” 

Connor reflected on the people in his life. There was nothing ‘rational’ about you wanting to go to Jericho at the risk of your own safety, or about Hank slowly drinking himself to death out of grief for his son, or about Markus answering the humans’ violence with peace. And yet, every day, the three of you did what you could to make the world just a little better for everyone.

The RK800 finally looked up at you again. “...Irrationality doesn’t preclude one’s capacity to do good. And if deviants were alive, _and_ could use their freedom to fight for peace, then.. maybe I could too…”

As he held your gaze, he didn’t have the heart to tell you he would be heading to meet his certain death at Cyberlife tomorrow.

But the troubled expression on his face did not escape your notice.

Something compelled you to reach up and touch his LED, your fingertips lightly brushing over the grooves where it attached to his temple. “You must've... gone through quite a long and uphill battle to arrive at that conclusion, Connor..” you sighed. “But.. I’m proud of you," you murmured, "for deciding to live in a way that would make _you_ happy...”

Without being fully cognizant of what you were doing, your hand trailed downwards to rest on his cheek. Your thumb caressed the few faint freckles on his skin. 

“Do you still think machines don’t feel anything..?” you inquired. You had an inkling of his answer already, but somewhere deep down, you needed to hear him say it.

You met his eyes.

Oh, _dear God_. 

_What were you doing?!_

Before you could retract your traitorous hand, Connor’s own flew to your wrist. He held it in place with a gentle grip.

“No, (f/n)...

because _we do_.”

Connor’s sensory receptors lit up as he leaned into your touch. It was inviting, comforting, yet it set the thirium in his veins ablaze and warmed him to his very core. He could feel his body reacting, aching for more, voracious for your affection. There was no denying his feelings now. Emotions were no longer a foreign entity, but a part of who he was. As his senses heightened, his thirium pump suddenly skipped a beat when he became aware of your physiology—your pupils were dilated, your heart rate elevated, your breathing somewhat uneven. And _that look_ in your eyes… Were you.. attracted to him? Did you have feelings for him too? Did you want him the same way he wanted you? Connor’s gaze drifted to your lips, ever so slightly parted, as a heady anticipation swelled from within. He became transfixed by your mouth, allowing his feelings to lead the way. Slowly, hesitantly, the deviant’s head began to dip towards yours as his body drew in closer, almost trembling with the overwhelming desire to feel you against him.

But wait.

What if he was wrong? What if his sensors were on the fritz and he had misinterpreted your reaction? Would he ruin your friendship if he closed the gap between you?

Or what if he was right, but you wanted to take things slow? But time wasn’t something he had left in spades... He couldn’t do that to you—leave you wanting, hoping, expecting. In a matter of hours, his life would be over.

Reason overrode emotion as Connor’s thought processes derailed. He froze, only inches away from your lips. He dared to go no further. If he did, it would only make his feelings deepen, the separation more acutely painful. Jericho—his people— _needed_ him. Their lives and their futures hung in the balance. The detective was going to Cyberlife tomorrow. He couldn’t tempt himself to abandon this one final mission.

Jaw clenching slightly, Connor reined his emotions in, forcing himself to retreat from the enticing gravity of your lips. The spell was broken.

The RK800 refused to meet your eyes. “(f/n), do you think you could just.. stay with me for a little while..?”

You blinked. It took you a second to regain your bearings after he had suddenly deprived you of his warm presence. A hollow, empty feeling gripped your chest as you withdrew your hand. But you _had_ gotten the answer you had sought from him. That would be enough. That was all you had been hoping for, after all...Right? You would endeavor to be satisfied with just that much, and nothing more. “Y-yeah, of course, Connor…”

The deviant moved to sit at the end of the couch to accommodate for your full height as you set the pillow down next to him. You stretched before laying on your side, your consciousness quickly fading as minute after minute of silence ticked by.

A dull ache throbbed in the detective’s chest. You were already asleep. Being careful not to rouse you from your slumber, he stood up, and draped the extra blanket you had brought for him over your sleeping form.

This was it. 

It was for the best.

Connor returned to his seat next to you on the sofa as a hand reached out to brush a few strands of hair from your visage. He lingered to play with your hair, feeling your locks between his fingers as he said his silent goodbye, wishing you all the safety and happiness he wouldn’t be able to bring you. He savored one last look at your sleeping face—he still thought you were beautiful.

From the day you met until the day he would die, you had brought his life nothing but joy.

> _Thank you, (f/n)..._

The android detective leaned back, resting his head against the couch.

He had decided.

Tomorrow, he would infiltrate Cyberlife 

and fight for the freedom of his people.

As his eyes fluttered closed, he entered stasis mode.

Connor would be gone by morning.


	12. Flip Side of the Coin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again, friends! I updated the summary to fit the major theme of the story more, since the it kinda evolved as I went along.
> 
> We're in the endgame now! More Connor to come in the next few chapters~
> 
> Thank you as always for stopping by to read, comment, leave kudos, etc etc! You all inspire me <3
> 
> EDIT: Oops, something went wrong with my original post of this chapter, so I had to delete and repost it! Sorry for any inconvenience~ ^^'

**11/11/38 | Home | 01:31 PM**

Sunlight streamed through your window as you stirred.

It had been a while since you had gotten a full night’s sleep.

But to say you had gotten a _restful_ sleep would be an overstatement.

You woke up in the afternoon on the couch, the memories of yesterday still foggy in your consciousness. As you stretched to wake your tired bones, you realized there was a little more empty space on the couch than you expected.

Connor was gone.

Your heart fluttered as the events of last night began to emerge more clearly in your mind. As you thought about what happened, heat rushed to your face, dispelling your drowsiness.

You had almost _kissed_ him.

As you relived the memory, you could almost feel the warmth radiating from his body as he drew in closer, almost see the tenderness in his expression as he held your hand against his cheek. Your fingers tingled with the urge to touch him again as you recalled how smooth his skin felt.

But judging by how suddenly the detective had recoiled from you, unable to look you in the eye for the rest of the evening, he probably decided he would rather not. He most likely just got carried away for a moment—briefly mistaking a growing closeness to you for romantic interest before ultimately realizing he had no desire to progress your relationship in that direction. And Connor was free to choose.

He had left without a word.

Maybe he already had his heart set on someone else. Or perhaps he had realized there were _so_ many other options—so many other people out there who he could potentially be much happier with in the long run. Who knew if he even wanted to be with a human, let alone with you.

Regardless, you would respect his decision. From here on out, you would be extra mindful of his feelings, carefully measuring out your affection as you maintained appropriate boundaries. You did still value his friendship, and you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable around you, after all.

You sighed. The sting of rejection felt suffocating. It would be a lie to say that you didn’t get your hopes up to some degree. You would probably feel like this for a while, honestly. But with enough time and self-care—maybe a few good movies, a pint of ice cream, a solid workout, and a pinch of booze for good measure—it would eventually be okay. You’d live.

You shifted onto your back and pulled out your phone. You had little hope that things would be completely normal the next time you saw the detective. Even if he _pretended_ nothing had happened, you knew he would definitely remember, forcing you both to tiptoe around each other until you addressed the little incident. Should you apologize for last night? You scrolled through your contacts.

> _“Connor” android_
> 
> _RK800 // SN: 313 248 317-51_

Your thumb hovered over the call button. You did want to to talk to him—hear his voice to somehow confirm things were okay between the two of you. But what would you even say to him? Your lips pursed as you debated whether or not you should reach out to him, practically memorizing his serial number as you stared at your screen.

...It was probably best to give him some space.

You would likely have to confront him at the cathedral later today anyway.

A pang of grief shot through you as you remembered your time at the old abandoned church yesterday. Lucy was dead. As with the hundreds of other androids who fell during the Jericho raid. The thought made your stomach turn as your heart dropped in your chest.

This was only the beginning of a mass android genocide...

You swallowed through the growing tension that felt like a vice grip on your throat.

Maybe the news would have some relevant updates to the situation.

As you switched on your TV, you found breaking news coverage of President Warren’s most recent press conference. She spoke with the overly-articulate, unnatural cadence that had been the standard for political speeches for the last century. But her voice was decisive,

_“At 6 AM yesterday morning, a national curfew was declared. Civilian movement is strictly controlled. The right to assembly is suspended. All electronic communications are restricted, and I have granted enhanced powers to our security agencies. In addition to these measures, all androids must be handed over to the authorities immediately. Temporary camps are being set up in all our major cities to contain and destroy them. I am asking all civilians to cooperate with the authorities, and rest assured that everything in our power is being done to guarantee the security of our nation.”_

The hands of numerous reporters shot up in the air. _“Madame President!”_ She gestured to one reporter, inviting him to ask his question. _“Has the leader of the deviants been apprehended?”_

_“The deviant known as ‘Markus’ has not been located yet, but we will soon track it down and neutralize it.”_

Good. Then for the time being, Markus and the people of Jericho were safe in the old cathedral.

The president gestured to another reporter, this time in the back. _“Is it true that androids could hack our IT systems, like nuclear power plants and military bases?”_

_“All androids working on sensitive sites have been neutralized and all IT systems have been suspended to avoid any risks of hacking. The situation is under control.”_

‘Under control,’ huh? Pfft, that was a long shot.

 _“Madame President, please!”_ The president turned to a young reporter at the front of the room. _“What about the medical androids that were recalled a few days ago? Is it true they have not been destroyed yet?”_

You sat up on your couch.

_“All androids working in medical settings were initially recalled as a precaution, and kept in holding cells on military bases to keep them away from the sick and wounded. As soon as we became aware of the threat androids posed to our security, they were transported to our temporary camps for neutralization._

_I can assure you that every measure has been taken to protect the American people.”_

Hope flickered within you. Luke’s reconnaissance report to Markus had been right. Your android team—all the androids you knew and loved from Resurgam—they could still be _alive_.

 _“President Warren, over here!”_ The president turned her attention to yet another reporter sitting in the front. _“Many believe that androids are a new form of intelligent life? Do you have any comment?”_

A sour look briefly crossed the president’s face, _“That’s ridiculous.”_ She didn’t bother to elaborate further, traces of impatience slipping through her cool, diplomatic facade, _“Next question, please.”_

Seemingly eager to change topics, she quickly gestured to another reporter in the crowd. _“President Warren! A convoy of medical cobalt is reported missing. Army weapon stores are also said to have been robbed. Can you confirm these reports?”_

She shook her head. _“I have no information on that at this time.”_

Huh. That’s odd. Markus would have mentioned something like that, right? You wondered if those were completely unrelated crimes… Perhaps criminals were taking advantage of the panic and using androids as a scapegoat for their wrongdoings.

 _“Thank you. That will be all.”_ The video feed cut as President Warren strolled out of the frame, the news returning to its regularly scheduled broadcast.

-

Well that hadn’t told you anything about the humans’ next move, but at the very least, you now knew there was still a chance to save the androids who were like family to you.

You jumped when you suddenly heard your phone ring.

“Hello? Captain Fowler?”

“Hello, (f/n). I’m glad I got a hold of you. You’re not working at the hospital today are you?”

“No, I’m not. I actually have the day off today and tomorrow.”

“Fantastic! I have your first official assignment as tactical physician. It’s urgent...

The FBI has been tightening security around all the major deactivation camps in the country. They’ve asked _us_ to send additional support to Recall Center #5, the camp here in Detroit. Your job will be to provide medical assistance to all federal, military, and city personnel stationed at the camp. Do you think you can handle that?”

You hated the idea of being stationed at a place where innocent people were getting slaughtered.

“Y-Yeah, of course...”

“Great! Report to my office at 7 tonight so I can give you the full rundown of your deployment. You’ll be under the command of Special Agent Richard Perkins from the FBI for the next 24 hours.”

 _Perkins_?! That asshole from the Stratford Tower investigation?!

UGH. Why did the universe hate you today?

“...Understood, Captain.”

Fowler gave a relieved sigh on the other line. You wondered if Perkins had been a dick to him too. “I appreciate your flexibility, (f/n). I’m sorry for the short notice, but this is becoming a matter of national security. We don’t have much of a choice but to do as we’re told—for the time being. The feds have been on my fuckin’ ass about it all day.”

“That’s alright, Captain Fowler. I know it’s not your fault. I imagine your hands are pretty tied right now.”

“Thank you (f/n)...” You could hear his chair creak as he leaned back in his seat. “Well then. I’ll see you at 7.”

“Sounds good.”

With that the call ended.

Dammit.

As soon as you had agreed to the assignment, you had immediately regretted it. Why couldn’t you have just told Fowler you were sick or something? You had _no_ desire to work with the very people who were _killing_ the androids you were trying so hard to protect.

But then again, was that their fault? Did those people have any say in the matter? Captain Fowler certainly didn’t, from the sound of it. You didn’t want to let him down, not after he so graciously gave you a job when he could have just as easily hired someone else. You were now a part of the Detroit Police force. If you caused any trouble or refused to go, the punishment would fall squarely onto his shoulders, as your boss. With Perkins leading the whole operation, you doubted that would be pretty.

You really were not looking forward to dealing with Agent Perkins again, though some part of you wondered how he really felt about the whole android situation. Sure, he was a total prick—that much you _didn’t_ doubt—but he was just trying to do his job, right? Follow his orders? You sighed. Too bad he was a little _too_ good at it.

You shot Hank a quick text.

> _“Hey, are you free today?”_

His response was almost immediate.

> _“Usual spot at 3?”_

The corner of your lips pulled upwards into a smile.

> _“I’ll meet you there”_

***

**11/11/38 | The Bridge | 03:08 PM**

The afternoon sun crept towards the horizon, the frozen river before you glittering under its rays. You sat on the usual bench with your hands in your pockets as you waited. But you didn’t mind. You would never really tire of the view of the Detroit skyline from here.

The sound of a deep bark caught your attention.

“Hey, hey, hey! Easy, boy!”

You turned to see Hank struggling to hang on as Sumo tugged on his leash. The large St. Bernard was quite eager to reach you. When they finally made it to your bench, Sumo greeted you with licks to the hand, his tail wagging enthusiastically in the air. You scratched him vigorously behind the ears as his tongue flopped out of his panting mouth in contentment, “Hi, buddy!”

“Jesus," Hank huffed, "I swear, he acts like he never gets to see you."

“Hey, Boss.” You smiled, scooting over on the bench to make room for the lieutenant. “Did you have the day off today?”

“Well, not exactly,” he sighed, sitting down next to you. “That piece of shit Perkins took over the deviant investigations. I’m back on homicide.”

That had come as no surprise. “Oh, that’s right.. I remember him mentioning the FBI would be taking over back at the Stratford Tower.” In a way, you were glad that Hank was officially off the case. The less tangled up he was in this mess, the better. You watched as Sumo laid down and curled up at your feet.

“We were so _fuckin’_ close to cracking this case! I wonder if Connor made any headway...”

You bristled at the detective's name. “Connor..?”

“Yeah…” Hank briefly looked around to ensure no one was within earshot before leaning closer to you, voice hushed, “The day we were taken off the deviant cases, that crazy bastard broke into the Evidence Locker. Showed up at my place asking to borrow some clothes, too. He left without saying anything else.”

“I-I see…” You wondered how much information you should divulge to the police lieutenant. It probably wouldn’t be smart to tell him you knew where the deviants were hiding. Or that you were secretly helping them. As much as you would have liked to talk to him about it, sharing that kind of information could land him in hot water. You suddenly found yourself understanding how Luke felt before he agreed to take you to Jericho. ‘ _The less you know, the safer you are_ ,’ he had said.

Hank leaned back on the bench, running an exasperated hand through his hair. “Been a couple days. You’d think that kid would have the decency to call or send an update or.. _somethin’_ …”

Wait a minute. Was Hank, the most stubborn android-loathing man you knew, actually _worried_ about the RK800? Just now, he had sounded akin to a concerned father who was getting peeved at his son’s neglect.

Joy sprang up from within your heart. Hank was starting to come around!

You wanted to set his mind at ease. “Don’t worry, Boss—Connor is doing okay. I saw him last night...” You trailed off, unable to elaborate further.

The lieutenant examined your face for a brief moment. Somehow, he knew not to press you for details right now. He relaxed in his seat, seemingly relieved. “Well, that’s good... You keep an eye on him, okay? Can’t have him sticking that nose of his into any trouble,” he said gruffly.

“Right…”

Hank was keen to notice the distant look on your face. “...So what’s eatin’ you, Kiddo?”

“I.. Well… Fowler assigned me to work under Perkins for my first official assignment. I’ll be stationed at the android recall camp downtown until tomorrow.”

“Eesh.. _That’s_ pretty shitty.”

“Yeah… I’m not sure how I feel about it. Perkins, fine—I can deal with him. I’ll have to. But to be honest, I don’t like the idea of working where androids are getting slaughtered. In a way, I’d be party to a cause that is fighting against innocent people— _people_ who...”

“..who just wanna be free?” 

“Yes, exactly,” you sighed. “But I don’t seem to have a choice. Orders are orders, right? Fowler is relying on me to do my job. And I can’t turn my back on the humans who might really need my help too, you know..?” You leaned forward on the bench, putting your head in your hands. "This whole thing is such a mess..."

“There’s always a choice, (f/n). Life is all about making choices. It’s messy, like you said, but that’s just how the world is sometimes—it ain't always so simple. But it’s up to you to decide the kind of impact your choices will make...” 

Hank paused thoughtfully before continuing. “I don’t have any straight answers for you Kiddo, but you’re a sweet girl. I’m sure whatever you choose to do, you’ll be thinking about doing right by other people... 

But life’s too short to not think about _you_ too. You can’t be afraid to fight for what _you_ believe in.”

His words struck a chord, tears prickling at the edges of your eyes as Lucy’s last words echoed in your mind:

_‘Be brave.’_

You slowly sat back up on the bench and leaned into the police lieutenant, wrapping your arms around him as a few tears began to fall. Despite the crisp winter air, he was warm. “Thanks, Hank… And thank you for being here for me..”

The arm that wasn’t holding Sumo’s leash draped over your shoulders, pulling you in securely. “Always, (f/n).”

It was then, sitting at the 'usual spot' with Hank, that you realized what you wanted to do.

***

**11/11/38 | Abandoned Cathedral | 5:11 PM**

Carrying a large bouquet of flowers, you snuck towards the back entrance of the abandoned cathedral. Twilight was fast approaching as the sun began to set below a tangerine sky. The large wooden door of the old church clicked closed behind you once you slipped inside.

As your eyes searched the crowd, you spotted the deviant leader having a discussion of some sort with Luke near the pulpit. Connor, however, was nowhere to be seen. You made a beeline for the pair, your steps confident and self-assured.

“Markus!”

“(f/n), you’re back!”

“How have you guys been holding up?”

“Things have been pretty much the same since you left last night. Luke finished up the last of the repairs after you went home, so we’ll probably be ready to march in a few hours.”

“Markus, I have an idea. 

I work for the DPD, and was just assigned to help staff the deactivation camp in Downtown as an on-site physician. While you guys are protesting, I’m going to try and break the androids out from the inside.”

The two deviants exchanged glances before Luke spoke up, “(f/n), you know those people don’t take too kindly to android sympathizers. That’s pretty risky…”

“True... but only if I get caught. Those camps will still be operational—they’ll continue to kill more and more androids—even while you guys are marching. If I can break them out, that’s more lives saved, and more androids who can stand by you in protest.”

Markus had to admit that you made a compelling case. There were several hundreds of androids trapped in that camp, and they would continue to be sitting ducks unless his protest was successful. But if you could manage to free them, they would have a second chance at life. Plus, it would be tremendously beneficial to the cause. “(f/n)... Are you sure about this?”

You were unwavering. “I am. I can’t, in good conscience, act as if _nothing_ is happening within the walls of that camp while I’m stationed there. And as far as I know, I’ll only be cleared to work there until tomorrow, so we might not get another chance like this. Besides...” Your gaze met your physician colleague’s,

“...now this is personal.”

Luke was slightly taken aback at the fire that blazed behind your eyes. It was focused. Determined. Yet tempered by the familiar kindness that was so characteristically _you_. You were going to try and save the Resurgam androids you both knew and loved, the android team whom you both cherished like family. Luke couldn’t help but be moved, “I’ll go with you, (f/n).” The deviant physician turned to his leader, “I’ve been doing reconnaissance on that camp for the past 2 days—I’m sure I can figure out a plan of some sort.”

Markus thought for a brief moment before conceding. “Okay... I’ll leave it to you then.”

“Wait. I have one condition, Markus…

Please don’t kill any humans during the protest tonight. I know you’re planning to approach the humans peacefully, so this probably goes without saying. But if I’m going to try and break the androids out, I need to ensure the humans at that camp won’t need me. I... don’t want them dying on me, either.”

The deviant leader put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You have my word, (f/n)... Both of you, be careful.”

“We will.”

Curiosity finally getting the better of him, Luke eyed the bouquet cradled in your arms. “Now that that’s settled, can I ask what _those_ are for?”

“For our dead," you said wistfully, looking down at your flowers. "I wanna pay my respects before I leave…” It wasn't much, but it was the least you could do.

You peered into the deviant leader's mismatched eyes. “...Be safe out there, Markus. _All of you_.”

-

You made your way to the corner of the church where the fallen androids had been laid to rest—where just last night, Luke had placed Lucy among the ranks of the deceased.

With reverent solemnity, you kneeled down, gingerly placing the bouquet of flowers on the ground before them. You took a moment of silence.

There were no words, no words that would ever be enough. There was nothing you could say that would adequately capture your sorrow at such a profound loss of life—nothing to properly express your regret for the horrible, unspeakable injustices they suffered at the hands of humans, your own kind. 

But in your silence, you made a promise.

You were just one person—one _human_ who was just as vulnerable to failure and folly as the rest of mankind. But despite your imperfections and your weakness, you would strive to show them the good in humanity, in whatever way you could. Maybe one day, after all of this was over, androids would be free to live life the way it was _meant_ to be lived. Fully, peacefully, and happily.

That was your hope—your wordless prayer in the old, abandoned cathedral.

After a few minutes, you stood up. Luke’s voice called softly from behind you. “Are you leaving, (f/n)?”

“Yeah.. I gotta be at the DPD by 7 tonight...” You turned around and hugged him tightly, sparing a moment to appreciate his love and presence in your life, “Thanks for always having my back, Luke.”

He responded by giving you a hearty squeeze, “Wouldn’t have it any other way...” After a few moments, he finally pulled away from you. “I won’t be able to text or call you since they’re really cracking down on electronic communications, but when you’re at the Recall Center, I’ll ping your phone’s location and find you when it’s safe. Does that seem reasonable?”

You smiled at him. Of course he was already thinking one step ahead. “Okay, Luke. I’ll see you then.”

Your deviant best friend watched as you headed for the door. You took one last glance around the dilapidated church before your face fell ever so slightly. As per usual, Luke seemed to know what you were thinking. “Connor hasn’t been here all day, in case you were wondering, (f/n).”

A light blush colored your cheeks at being caught. “O-oh! I see...”

The physician’s brow furrowed as he approached you. “Wait, weren’t you with him last night? Didn’t he tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Connor is planning on infiltrating Cyberlife Tower today.”

A jolt of anxiety rushed through your body. “What?! Alone? Luke, they’ll kill him!”

“Believe me, I know—Markus tried to talk him out of it, but he was dead set on going. He’s hoping to turn the tides of this whole ordeal by waking up the androids at the assembly plant. The guy’s got guts, I’ll give him that.”

You took a second to process the information, trying to calm the rapidly thudding heart behind your sternum. “When is he planning on going? Maybe I could try talking to him before then?”

“I’m not sure, he didn’t say—probably sometime later tonight, if I could venture a guess…” Luke frowned. “It’s probably not a good idea to contact him right now though, (f/n). If by some chance he’s _already_ at Cyberlife, you might accidentally reveal him.”

Shit, he was right... That wasn’t a risk you were willing to take, especially since electronic communications were being so strictly monitored.

“I know it’s hard, (f/n), but I think for now, we’re just going to have to trust that he knows what he’s doing.”

Your deviant best friend was right yet again. That was probably the best thing you could do for Connor right now.

Well. More like the _only_ thing you could do for Connor right now.

You sighed. “Yeah… You’re right, Luke. We’ll just have to put our faith in him...”

“Attagirl! We’ll make him proud.” He managed to crack a sincere smile from you. “C’mon, you should get going. Wouldn’t wanna be late for our collective date with destiny, now would you?”

Feeling a little heartened, you laughed. “Alright then. I’ll see you tonight, Luke.”

***

**11/11/38 | Detroit Police Station, Shooting Range | 06:45 PM**

Inhale.

Exhale.

With an eye on the target, you pulled the trigger.

Your bullet hit the second ring from the center.

You had arrived at the station quite early, and had come to the shooting range to clear your mind. It was empty again—just like last time. From up the shooting lane, you scrutinized your target before a satisfied smile tugged at your lips. You had fared _considerably_ better compared to the last time you were here. At least most of your shots actually hit the target this time.

As you took aim once again, you couldn’t help but think of the night you came here after the Stratford Tower. You could still remember the feeling of Connor’s hands guiding you into a correct shooting stance, his voice low and husky in your ear just before you had taken that perfect shot,

_“Trust me, (f/n).”_

...And trust him you would.

A loud bang echoed throughout the shooting range when you pulled the trigger, your hands properly stabilizing the recoil of your handgun.

Bullseye.

You ejected the empty magazine to reload it with fresh ammunition. As you pushed the bullets in one by one, your mind began to wander, the bullets gradually stilling in your hands.

Memories of the Jericho raid sent a shiver down your spine—they were still so vivid, so visceral. You could still hear the dying cries of hundreds of androids, the constant rattling of gunfire as the armed forces stormed the large freighter. Your stomach turned as you relived your fear of those soldiers—fear for your own life and that of your friends. Lucy had _died_ at their hands. It filled you with a righteous anger.

And yet...

You wondered how many human casualties there had been on that ship. There must have been at least a few, as the deviants would have rightfully tried to defend themselves. Were those soldiers any less human than the ones who so kindly walked you and Connor home last night?

...No. 

At the end of the day, no they weren’t.

You slid the fully loaded magazine back into your gun.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of pity for the soldiers who also died at Jericho that evening. Some, no doubt, were only following orders. Could you blame them for just wanting to do their job, so they could support their families? Protect their friends? Keep the world safe from a perceived threat? Other soldiers who died that night—who had killed because they genuinely despised androids—had been led astray by their blind ignorance, caged by their hatred and misguided ideals. Would things have been different if they had gotten to know the androids? Would things be different if they had opened their eyes? After all, Hank had held a deep, festering contempt for androids for _years_ , and yet with the right push, even _he_ was coming around…

The country was on the brink of a civil war, and yet you wanted _everyone_ to be safe. Perhaps that was just too much to ask from a complicated world full of gray zones and blurred lines. The world was just not that simple, you supposed, reflecting on Hank’s advice. But regardless, you had made your choice, vowing to safeguard the lives of both humans and androids, while fighting for the deviants’ freedom.

While Connor infiltrated the Cyberlife tower to “protect and serve” his people,

you would “do no harm”

in your own way.

Flicking the safety on, you set the gun on the counter. Your musings had landed you at the same paradox from the last time you had come to this shooting range:

To kill in order to save. To save those with the desire to kill.

Such was the strange dichotomy. Like two sides of the same coin.

You reached into your pocket for the 1994 quarter Connor had given you last night, your fingers almost affectionately brushing over its ridges. 'LIBERTY' had been minted in big bold letters on its shiny silver surface.

A decisive battle was looming ahead. In just a few hours, ideologies would clash, and the world would never be the same again.

Would the deviants survive the protest? Would the humans spill more blood?

You positioned the quarter onto your thumb.

Could androids and humans ever live in peace?

With a slight flick of the wrist, 

you flipped the coin.


	13. Tails (To Kill in Order to Save)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Thank you for your patience! I'm so sorry this one took so long! I got a little caught up with work for a while. This chapter also took FOREVER to write because I kept scrapping and rewriting it. I had a lot of different ideas for where the story could go, but felt this one was the best!
> 
> Thank you again for sticking with me, and for taking the time to read, comment, and kudo :) I hope you like it! <3
> 
> FUN FACT #5: The caduceus (the winged staff with two serpents twisted around it) is used on US Army uniforms, even though most professional medical organizations use the Rod of Asclepius (the staff with one snake twisted around it). This was due to a misinterpretation of the symbol over 100 years ago.

**11/11/38 | Recall Center #5 | 8:39 PM**

With a string in each hand, you tugged the laces taut.

Over. Under. Through the loop and...

with a tight pull, you tied the knot on your combat boot. Standing up from your seat on the cot, you continued to get dressed in the privacy of the dimly lit army tent.

Earlier tonight, you had gone to Captain Fowler’s office and were given a thorough briefing about your assignment along with a duffel bag full of equipment. Almost immediately afterwards, you were whisked away with about ten other Detroit Police officers to Recall Center #5, where, as Fowler had mentioned, you would be stationed until tomorrow.

_Zzzzzzzzzzzp!_

With a yank of the small metal zipper, the thick, camouflage cloth of your uniform shirt closed over your chest. As you dug back into your duffel bag for the next piece of your outfit, your eyes caught the glint of a shiny piece of silver in your pile of clothing.

Connor’s quarter.

God, it was so tempting to call him, even though every shred of good sense that you had screamed at you not to. Jeopardizing his mission could cost him his life. When he had essentially hinted that he did not want to pursue a romantic relationship with you, your budding hopes had been dashed. It stung to say the least. You had decided you would accept his decision graciously, and work towards being satisfied with just his friendship—resolving to expect absolutely nothing more from the detective.

But none of that mattered anymore.

Now, all you wanted was for him to come back alive.

You picked up the coin and tucked it into the breast pocket over your heart for safekeeping. Right now, you had your own mission to focus on. You couldn’t afford to ruminate in your fears and what ifs. As Luke had said, all you could do now was trust Connor.

_Click._

_Click._

_Snap._

_Zip._

You closed numerous buckles, tugged at several straps, and fastened various pieces of gear and equipment against your body as you suited up. Gathering your hair into your hands, you tied it out of the way before slipping into your helmet. It was warm, protecting your face and head from both the elements and from potential traumatic blows.

You were ready.

Tonight, you were going to free the camp.

Without taking a life.

With a deep breath, you headed into the chilly winter air outside.

Clad from head to toe in a uniform and full tactical gear, you were nearly indistinguishable from the soldiers at the deactivation camp, save for the words ‘DPD MEDIC’ on your armored vest. You wore it with pride. You had worked hard for your medical license, your job at the hospital, and your job with the Detroit Police Department—years of hard work, sacrifice, and suffering finally culminating in a newly blossoming career despite the growing unemployment rates. Everything you worked for, not to mention the lives of several hundreds of androids, were at stake. 

You stood outside the gates of the Recall Center in the snow, shoulder to shoulder with your DPD colleagues. A soldier handed you a standard issue assault rifle.

Why you would need one if you were _supposedly_ only there for medical support was beyond you.

Shifting uncomfortably on your feet, you watched as Agent Perkins paced in front of you like a drill sergeant, evaluating your group with a sharp, discriminating eye. Once everyone was fully armed, he finally spoke, “You all are here because I didn’t have a choice. Because of these... _rats_ ,” he said, glancing towards the camp, “our _real_ forces are spread too thin across the country. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t even be here...”

You hadn’t thought of that. A vast majority of the military consisted of android personnel until just recently. When they were all neutralized, the armed forces had been considerably weakened, leaving the remaining human soldiers to fill the substantial void across the entire nation. Like Resurgam had been after the android recall, they were severely short-staffed.

Maybe that meant security _inside_ the camp would not be as tight as you initially expected...

“...While you’re here, I expect you to be at least halfway competent at your jobs and follow my orders, no questions asked. Or things are going to get ugly. You wouldn’t want to be the cause of a civil war, would you?” Agent Perkins asked with a sneer.

Sheesh, what a condescending asshole. You hadn’t even been there for half an hour and he was already insulting you. He couldn’t even be bothered to _fake_ a sense of decorum. Or hide the fact he looked down on you for being mere municipal police. 

Perkins stopped in front of you, briefly eyeing the caduceus patch on the sleeve of your uniform. You wondered if he knew who you were behind the helmet. “Don’t fuck this up for me,” he hissed before turning to walk away.

“You’re dismissed to your posts,” called Perkins’s security detail.

As your fellow DPD officers began to disperse to their respective stations at the Recall Center, you stood your ground. “Agent Perkins?” He stopped, somehow managing to spare you a brief moment of his attention. “I don’t doubt that you’re a brilliant and accomplished FBI agent. And I’m positive there’s a lot of good reasons for that.

But being a dick to your colleagues… probably isn’t one of them.”

Saying nothing further, you strolled away.

-

You found your way over to the makeshift medic tent within the confines of the camp. Inside were a few simple cots, some large crates full of medical supplies, and an examination table complete with its own bright fluorescent light—probably for emergency procedures. The tent was also empty; it seemed like no one had used it since it had been set up.

You hoped it would stay that way.

Setting your rifle against one of the cots, you sat down and eagerly removed your stuffy helmet. The fresh night air was invigorating in your lungs. How the hell did those soldiers tolerate wearing one of these things all day?

You inspected your sidearm, the trusty handgun in your leg holster. The magazine was fully loaded. 

‘Do no harm,’ you had vowed to yourself, ever true to the physician’s oath you swore years ago during your medical school graduation ceremony. You could still remember the joy from that day, surrounded by your family and friends as they draped a colorful myriad of leis around your neck. Hank had been _so_ proud of you.

Things were so much simpler back then...

Your gloved palm slid the gun’s magazine back into place. You had no intention to kill while you were here—with any luck, you wouldn’t have to. 

...But it never hurt to be prepared.

You reholstered your gun before glancing around the tent. Maybe you could find something that could be useful to you.

You rummaged through the large crates. There wasn’t anything particularly noteworthy inside—mostly some gauze, bandages, splints, tourniquets, and several glass vials of various liquid medications...

That gave you an idea.

The glass vials clinked in your hands as you checked the labels of each one. Lidocaine. Ketorolac. Epinephrine. Finally, you found what you were looking for:

A fast-acting sedative.

And a single autoinjector syringe.

With a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure no one was entering the medic tent, you grabbed the autoinjector and filled it with the sedative medication, being extra mindful of the dosage. You would just load enough to make an average-sized adult sleep for about 30 minutes and wake up feeling fine. It wasn’t ideal, but if it meant sparing someone’s life while getting you out of a tight spot, it was definitely worth it. You slipped the loaded injector into one of your pockets. Too bad there had only been one in the crate, but it would have to do.

You reached into one of your many pockets to check your phone. The signal was good, which hopefully meant Luke would be able to find you pretty easily. And it didn’t seem like anyone was going to come by your tent any time soon. Perhaps you should use this opportunity to survey the inside of the camp. If you were going to break the androids out from the inside, you were going to need a plan, as well as an idea of the camp’s layout. 

Sticking your head back into your helmet, you grabbed your rifle and headed outside.

-

As you walked the perimeter, surveillance drones flying overhead, what you saw _horrified_ you.

Hundreds of naked, de-skinned androids had been herded into several holding pens—stripped of their dignity, humiliated and reduced down to their basest of states. Your heart sank as you saw their eyes, wide with fear and terror. Some sat helplessly within the pens and cried, their silent tears glistening in the blinding light from overhead. Others tried to appear strong and unafraid, though the hardened expressions on their faces couldn’t fully mask the apprehension beneath the facade. A few androids were trying to console those who were actively panicking, while others seemed either completely oblivious or in denial of their inevitable demise.

But it was the look of total resignation on many of the androids’ faces—the look of sheer and utter despair—that cut you the deepest.

Somehow, they appeared as if they were already dead...

An aggressive voice suddenly caught your attention,

“Go on! Move it!”

Just up ahead, past the automatic sliding gates, was a large, sectioned-off area where rows upon rows of androids were standing in line. You saw a soldier hit one android in the back of the head with the butt of his rifle, causing him to stumble to the ground. “I gave you an order!” As the poor android struggled to get up, the soldier shot him point blank through the skull, his plastic body immediately becoming motionless.

“Fucking waste of bullets...” he grumbled. He pointed his rifle at another android. “You—take this thing to the dump! Now!”

“R-right away, sir..!”

It made your blood boil.

As the android dragged the plastic body away, a trail of thirium staining the snow in its wake, you caught sight of what they had been lining up for:

Recycling Machines.

From beyond the metal fence, you could see the interior of each massive blue chamber was lined with cyan blue lights, long robotic arms hanging from the ceiling. You watched as a handful of androids were forced inside before the horizontal doors to the machines shut behind them. As you came closer to get a better look, you could hear a faint whirring sound coming from the chambers, but no screams—no cries of agony like the ones you had heard at Jericho during the raid. How strange…

Before you could ponder this for much longer, the Recycling Machines let out a synchronized beeping sound as their outer lights flashed. When the chamber doors finally reopened, both machines were empty again.

What the fuck..?

Clutching your rifle, you jogged further down past the perimeter, just a short ways beyond the prying eyes of sentinels and the barbed wire fences of the Recall Center. You stopped in your tracks as a sudden wave of nausea made you swallow.

A dumping ground.

Enormous heaps of android corpses were everywhere, piling higher and higher as the Recycling Machines emptied their contents into the dump. Automatic cranes clawed at the masses of bodies, lifting them out of the piles and dropping them into large trucks to eventually be hauled away. From where you stood, you could see the androids’ expressionless faces, completely blank on the stark white plastic. Behind their vacant, lifeless eyes, there was _nothing_.

How _fucking_ dare they!

What gave the humans the right to rob hundreds of thousands of android _people_ of life? To rip away the chance to dream, the chance to feel, the chance to grow and love and hurt and _live_. All of it. All of life’s beauties and joys—pleasures and pains—gone in an instant, all because these humans refused to stop and listen to those who were different.

In your anger, a stray thought entered your head. Given your station, it would be relatively _easy_ to sneak into the camp’s armory, steal some explosives, and just blast these damned Recycling Machines to smithereens, once and for all.

...But such an act would be far too aggressive. Doing so could incite a civil war, putting Markus and the protesting deviants in a worse position than they already were in. Not to mention there would be no small risk of human casualties.

Nope. That was absolutely _not_ an option.

You sighed, taking a moment to calm yourself down. You were starting to realize how truly difficult it must have been for Markus and the rest of Jericho to choose not to retaliate against the humans. It was extremely admirable.

Yes, your frustration was justifiable—you were not immune to emotion. But you were also committed to fighting for peace. And you promised yourself you would do no harm. If you were serious about liberating the camp _while_ protecting as many human and android lives as you possibly could, you would need to be surgical. Controlled. Precise.

Haphazardly blowing shit up was decidedly neither of those things.

“(f/n)?”

You whipped around at the sound of your name, reflexively drawing your assault rifle. At the tip of the barrel you saw Luke, holding his hands up.

“Holy shit, Luke, you scared me!”

“Apparently,” he said with a laugh. “We’re lucky the humans didn’t think to guard their trash...” Luke glanced around uncomfortably before turning back to you with concern. “You doing okay?”

“I hate it here. This place makes me sick,” you spat. You pointed towards the Recycling Machines behind the mountains of android corpses. “Do you see those big blue chambers? They’re herding people into those things for deactivation! Then whatever's left of the bodies get dumped here…

I think the first thing we should do is shut those things down somehow.”

The deviant physician squinted in the direction you were pointing. “Seems like a reasonable Step 1. Any suggestions?”

“Hmm…” You thought for a moment. “Well they have to be powered by _something_ right? Like maybe there’s a generator somewhere here at the camp—that, or they’re directly connected to the city’s power grid. Either way, if we can find the circuit breaker, maybe we can burn them out?”

“A short circuit! That’s a great idea! If we can blow out the power, it might also unlock the automated gates, and people can escape!” Luke trotted closer to the Recycling Machines, running a quick scan from a safe distance. “Their power lines lead deeper into the camp. I’m sure we can find the breaker if we follow them.”

Behind your helmet, your brows furrowed. “Right, but.. the Recall Center is huge! _I_ can’t see the lines underground, and _you_ can’t just waltz inside. Might take me awhile to find it by myself, and by then, it might be too late.”

The android physician was already shrugging off his jacket. “Way ahead of you, (f/n)!” He peeled off his shirt before moving to unbutton his pants.

“Oh my—” You immediately turned away, using your hand to further shield your view of him. “Luke! Wh-what the hell are you doing?!”

“Giving us a way in,” you heard him say. You could hear the sound of him kicking the last of his clothing off before folding each article and shoving it behind a nearby rock. “I’ll track the power lines and lead us to the circuit breaker, while you follow me with your gun to my back. We’re gunna pretend you captured me.”

“Well a heads up would have been nice!”

The deviant laughed. “(f/n), it’s okay. You can turn around.”

Tentatively peeking out of the corner of your eye, you turned back to Luke. Gone were his handsome features and lustrous hair. He had deactivated his skin, the sleek white and gray plastic of his body on full display. He was nearly unrecognizable, almost blending into the thousands of android corpses piled in mounds behind him. Your beloved colleague, your former mentor, your best friend stood before you—forced to shame and degrade himself—ready to die at the hands of the humans who saw him as trash. Only his eyes seemed familiar, still blazing with the determination to set his people free.

“Luke…”

The deviant physician could immediately sense the drop in your mood, not needing to see your face behind your helmet to know that you were frowning. He feigned a look of dismay, dramatically putting his hand to his chest as if you had offended him. “Geez, (f/n). You could at least buy me dinner first before ogling at me _naked_.”

An embarrassed giggle broke though the black cloud hanging over your head. You jabbed him playfully with the butt of your rifle. “Shut the hell up, you! Let’s get going.”

“Yeah, like that, but next time with more _feeling_!” Luke said, turning around and putting his hands up. “You’re gunna have to really ham it up if you wanna fool the guards.” He looked over his shoulder at you, tone becoming more serious. “Follow my lead.”

-

With his hands held behind his head, Luke led you out of the dump and back into the Recall Center, eyes scanning the ground as he walked forward. You followed him closely, rifle aimed threateningly at his back. Most of the soldiers at the camp seemed to pay you no mind.

So far, so good!

Luke led you past the Recycling Machines, beyond the holding pens, and deeper into the camp. As the two of you walked further down the perimeter, you could see what looked to be a large power generator just a few hundred feet ahead. The circuit breaker panel was attached to one of its metal sides. The deviant physician looked over his shoulder to exchange a quick glance with you. That was it! You were almost there!

Before you could get any closer, a soldier who had been doing his rounds suddenly approached you. “Is this one giving you trouble?” Ah, shit. You would have to play it cool.

“Nah, I’m good,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “I found it sneaking around the dump a few minutes ago.” 

“I see. Well just shoot it then.”

Luke bristled slightly.

Oh, crap!

_Think, think, think!_

“...It’d be a waste of bullets though, don’t you think? Why shoot when we could recycle and salvage some metal from it, at least?” Even saying those words was revolting.

The soldier paused briefly before laughing. “True, true.”

Another idea sprang up in your mind. “Do you think we should tighten security around the dump? I noticed it wasn’t well guarded when I caught this guy.”

“That’s… probably a good idea.” He held down a button on his helmet. “Agent Perkins, sir. Requesting permission to move a few men to the Northern side of the camp.”

From where you stood, you could hear Perkins’s reply, _“Approved. Kill any strays you find.”_

“Roger.” The soldier gestured to two nearby guards. “You and you. Come with me.”

“Yes, sir!” You watched as the three of them scurried away in the direction you came, leaving the circuit breaker unattended.

Finally, the coast was clear!

-

You and Luke made a beeline for the circuit breaker. It was locked, seemingly requiring a palm scan and password to open it.

“Do you think you can hack it?”

Luke placed his palm on the scanner. “I should be able to, but it might take me a second.”

“I’ll stand watch.” You walked just a little ways away, eyes on the lookout for anyone who could be a potential threat. The large power generator had been located at the very edge of the Recall Center. Getting the few soldiers who were posted here to move to the dump was fairly easy, since there wasn’t much to guard here. Once they had left, this area became, essentially, deserted.

Well… mostly.

“You there! What do you think you’re doing here?!” you heard someone yell. You whirled around, only to see the back of a soldier as he slowly approached Luke.

Shit! He must have come from somewhere behind you, outside your field of vision. Probably from around the corner of the large generator.

Some guard you were.

There was no way Luke would be able to talk his way out of this one. You would have to act quickly.

“I asked you a question!” he barked at the deviant.

For once, Luke was at a loss for words, quickly trying to conjure up an excuse.

You set your rifle down against the nearby fence as quietly as you possibly could. Pulling the autoinjector from out of your pocket, you slowly, _carefully_ snuck up behind the soldier, the syringe held firmly in your grasp.

Luke glanced at you, but stayed silent.

“Fucking androids...” When he suddenly raised his assault rifle, finger reaching for the trigger, you pounced for his arm

and stabbed the autoinjector through the fabric of his uniform shirt, disrupting his aim. You felt the autoinjector click in your hand as it pushed the sedative medication through the needle and into a vein in his arm. It worked its magic quickly.

“What....?”

You could feel the soldier gradually stop resisting your hold as the rifle went slack in his grip. You lowered him to the ground as his body became limp. In less than a minute, he was snoring.

Luke was relieved. “Nice going, (f/n)!”

“Thanks! I swiped the last one from the medic tent before you found me,” you said, clicking the now empty autoinjector syringe. “Figured it’d be safer to put him to sleep than to whack him on the head and risk neurological trauma.”

“Hah! Way to think like a doctor.”

You flipped the soldier onto his back. “I only loaded a few milligrams though, so he’ll probably start waking up in about half an hour.”

“That should be more than enough time...” Luke placed his hand back on the scanner, returning his focus to hacking the lock.

“I’ll be right back. I’m gunna hide him somewhere so no one bothers us.” Looking around, you found a safe looking spot on the other side of the generator where the soldier would be relatively well-hidden. Perfect! You grabbed him from under his arms and dragged him to his hiding place. Jesus, he was heavy. His gear alone was probably at least 50 pounds.

Finally making it to the spot, you propped the sleeping soldier up into a comfortable seated position. You flipped on the safety of his assault rifle and stole its magazine before laying it across his lap. Searching through his pockets, you confiscated any ammo you could find.

A loud thud suddenly made you jump.

_Luke!_

You sprinted back towards the circuit breaker. Dammit! You had used your only autoinjector. If there was a real threat, you would _have_ to shoot. Was this truly the only way to 'do no harm'? Drawing your trusty handgun from your leg holster, you took aim at Luke’s assailant.

“Connor..?”

“Hello, (f/n),” he replied, gaze still fixed on the deviant physician.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The RK800 was _here_ , at the camp, in his signature uniform.

His gun was aimed squarely at Luke’s forehead.

“(f/n), run! Get out of here!” Luke yelled.

You froze in place, adrenaline pumping through your veins. “C-Connor! What are you doing?! I-I thought you were going to Cyberlife!” You couldn’t bring yourself to lower your guard until you knew Luke would be safe.

“I _was_ going to Cyberlife. But when I heard about the danger, I came back… 

I came back _for you_ , (f/n).”

Your heart skipped a beat beneath your tactical vest. “For... _me_?” Was there hope for a romantic relationship after all? You quickly brushed the thought aside—now was not the time for this. “Connor, what are you talking about? What danger?”

The RK800 continued to glare at Luke, gun unwavering in his hands. He kicked a pile of thick cloth that had been sitting at his feet towards you. It was the jacket Luke had been wearing earlier. “I found _this_ in Luke’s pocket.” Connor held up an object with his other hand.

A blue remote with a red switch.

“What… What is that?”

Luke’s jaw dropped. “Wait, (f/n), I—”

“—A few days ago, a truck carrying radioactive medical cobalt was stolen. It was abandoned somewhere in Detroit and rigged to explode.

 _This_ is the detonator.”

“A dirty bomb…” you breathed. Your eyes went wide. “But wait, that would level the entire city..! Humans can’t survive that!”

“...Correct. I’m sorry, (f/n), but your _friend_ here isn’t who you thought he was.”

The world seemed to shatter beneath your feet. Was the deviant physician you knew and loved—the compassionate, mischievous, ever charming Luke—willing to _kill_ several hundred thousand innocent humans for the revolution?

No… 

No, no, _no_. 

Luke couldn’t do that. He _wouldn’t_... 

Would he…?

You turned to him in disbelief. “Luke.. Is this.. is this true?”

“(f/n), hold on. I wasn’t planning on setting it off—”

“—Don’t listen to him, (f/n)! I can tell he’s lying! He’s been planning this since the beginning.”

You looked back and forth between the two androids, unsure of what to do. You trusted Connor. And you trusted Luke, too.

But one of them was lying to you. 

It tore you apart inside.

Your aim began to waver. You would have to stop _one_ of them. If you stopped Luke from destroying the Recycling Machines, you would thwart your own mission, leaving thousands of androids to die—likely extinguishing the deviants’ fight for freedom. But if you stopped Connor, and Luke triggered the detonator, thousands of humans all across the city would be killed in an instant—the radioactive fallout leaving Detroit uninhabitable for years to come.

One of them would have to die tonight.

And you might be the one to pull the trigger.

The RK800 picked up on your hesitation, voice softening as he addressed you, “I know, (f/n).. It’s okay. Let me take care of this. I won’t let him put you in danger anymore...

And.. well.. after all of this is over, maybe you and I…”

Where was he going with this?

Connor paused, struggling to properly articulate his thoughts to you, “I mean… i-if you’d like, maybe you and I could.. be together...

I like you, (f/n).”

Hearing those words felt like a jolt of electricity through your body. Heat rushed to your face as you began to lower your weapon. “Connor…”

“Please, (f/n)..” he pleaded, “Let me put an end to his scheming, once and for all.”

You glanced at Luke. He was silent, his expression unreadable. You felt like your heart was being ripped out. To you, he was still your best friend.

“...I.. I thought we were all on the same side.. Is there no way we can talk this out?”

Eyes and gun trained on Luke, the detective shook his head, “I’m sorry, (f/n)... But there’s no negotiating with someone as unstable and irrational as he is.”

‘Irrational’…?

A memory stirred. You suddenly recalled sitting on your couch with Connor last night:

_“You know.. back on the ship, when I tried to capture Markus, I thought of you._

_I thought about what you told me that night by the bridge. It suddenly made sense to me..._

_Irrationality doesn’t preclude one’s capacity to do good. And if deviants were alive, and could use their freedom to fight for peace, then… maybe I could too…”_

The realization was beginning to set in, crawling its way to the forefront of your mind.

_“Trust me, (f/n),”_ Connor had said to you once.

You clutched your handgun, conviction and certainty growing within you like a fire. You were going to confirm your suspicion. “Luke. What’s his serial number?”

Springing to attention, the deviant physician ran a quick scan. His answer was almost instantaneous,

“313 248 317-61.”

With a finger hovering over the trigger, you raised your gun determinedly at the RK800, your usually kind countenance becoming cold and steely,

“You’re not the real Connor.”

Luke was wholly astonished. “What..?!”

The Connor imposter chuckled. His expression suddenly seemed much less human than even the _real_ Connor’s on the day you met—before he became deviant. He looked like him, sounded like him, but everything about _this_ Connor felt so so wrong. “Well, well. Very good, (f/n). No wonder he likes you so much.”

That lying, manipulative bastard had played you for a fool, and Luke had almost paid for it with his life. “Don’t _fucking_ toy with me!” Luke flinched at the venom in your tone.

“Oh, (f/n), _I_ wouldn’t do such a thing,” he drawled sarcastically. You wanted to punch that smug-ass smirk off face. Repeatedly. “Unlike my predecessor, _I’m_ obedient. Efficient. I only do what is strictly necessary to accomplish my mission.”

“Where’s the _real_ Connor?”

The RK800 narrowed his eyes at you. “Why does it matter, (f/n)? He’s been a great disappointment to Cyberlife, you know. He’s been a great disappointment to _me_.

Fortunately, that’s all going to end tonight.”

Taking advantage of the android’s momentary lapse in attention, Luke immediately knocked the gun out of the imposter’s hand, and dealt him a hard punch to the face. God, that was satisfying to watch. He tackled him to the icy ground, wrenching the detonator out of his grasp and tossing it to you, “(f/n), catch!”

As you shoved the blue remote into one of your pockets, the two androids grappled, rolling across the floor. You hurried to pick up the gun the RK800 had dropped, taking its magazine before tossing the gun aside. You took aim with your own handgun once more.

Regaining control of the skirmish, the fake Connor threw Luke off of him. As he moved to get up, Luke sweep kicked his ankles, causing him to lose balance and fall.

Shit! If you weren’t careful, you could accidentally shoot Luke.

Your hands trembled. Were you ready to take a life..?

The deviant physician dove on top of the RK800, managing to pin him to the ground in a headlock. A cyan light glowed from his white de-skinned hand where it held ‘Connor’ down. All at once, the light stopped. “Shit, I can’t convert him—he won’t wake up!” 

The RK800 delivered a swift blow to Luke’s thirium pump regulator, effectively stunning him. He slipped out of Luke’s grasp before kicking him across the face.

“Luke!”

The fake Connor stood up, hovering over your best friend. Luke stumbled to his feet. “You see, _I_ know what I am...”

The Connor imposter threw a punch—Luke blocked before ‘Connor’ slammed him with a sharp counterattack to the pump regulator. He slumped to the ground, clutching his abdomen.

“...I have a goal. A mission.” The RK800 kicked the deviant in the ribs, closing in like a predator on its prey. The assault rifle you had left leaning against the fence earlier was now within his reach. 

“...And I _always_ complete my mission.”

With a single swift fluid motion, the android seized the rifle and pointed it at Luke.

_NO!_

A single gunshot rang out.

  
  
  
  


You had shot the RK800 clean between the eyes.

He fell backwards, body landing on the ground with a thud.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at the trail of thirium trickling out of the bullet hole in his head. It stained the once immaculately white snow beneath him with a deep blue. The android's eyes were lifeless.

He was dead.

Suddenly feeling short of breath, you quickly peeled off your sweaty helmet and tossed it aside—eagerly breathing in the cool night air. Tears were beginning to stream freely from your eyes. You rushed to your best friend’s aid. “L-Luke!”

The deviant physician sat up in your arms, taking a moment to allow his systems to regulate. He reached out to brush a few tears off your cheek before you pulled him into a tight hug. You had never felt so scared for his life before. “(f/n)... You’re shaking..”

You sniffled as you finally pulled apart from him, trying to manage a lighthearted smile. “Well, I just killed a man for you, you dummy...”

Luke glanced over at the dead RK800 just a few feet away. There was no pity in his eyes. 

“No, (f/n). _That_ was a machine.”

-

After a couple of minutes, you calmed down, your breathing steadily evening out. Luke got up, and helped you to your feet. 

“I’m sorry I doubted you, Luke…” You reached into your pocket for the detonator, examining it warily. It was hard to imagine something so small and simple-looking could trigger something so extremely deadly. “Here…” you said, offering it to him, “I trust you.”

The android physician seemed to know what you were thinking. “Thank you, (f/n),” he said, taking the blue remote from you. He picked up his jacket and put it on, slipping the detonator in one of its inside pockets. “To be fair, that conniving piece of shit was partially right.”

You wiped the last of your tears away. “What do you mean?”

“A few days ago, a deviant came to Jericho and told North he rigged a truck full of radioactive medical cobalt to explode. That much _is_ true. She told him not to do it, and convinced him to give her the detonator.” 

“So there really _is_ a dirty bomb somewhere in Detroit..”

Luke nodded. “Yes... North offered the detonator to Markus, but when he insisted on a peaceful approach, she gave it to me.”

“But why?”

“Turns out the deviant who had stolen the truck died during the Jericho raid. Markus asked me if I could track it down using the signal from the detonator. The plan was to neutralize it and deliver the cobalt back to the hospital systems.

That cobalt is used for radiation therapy for cancer patients, (f/n)—we _had_ to give it back. I told Markus I’d be happy to do it… After you and I freed the camp.”

Your stress and doubt melted away. _Of course_ Luke would have agreed to that—always willing to take on the most difficult tasks for the sake of other people. A soft smile broke through your features. He was still the Luke you knew and loved. “So what are we waiting for then?”

Luke grinned at you. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day!” He jogged a few paces back to the circuit breaker and placed his hand back on the scanner. You watched as it glowed green under his palm.

_ACCESS GRANTED_

The door to the circuit breaker unlocked with a click. Luke grabbed at the cables inside. “Let’s shut these things down for good, shall we?” He quickly went to work, pulling and severing and reconnecting carefully chosen wires. With a swift yank of the last cable, all of the bright florescent lights within the camp sparked and went dark. 

The deviant physician had burnt out all of the appliances within the Recall Center.

“What the fuck happened?!” you heard in the distance.

“The power went out!” came the reply.

Luke quickly shut the circuit breaker box, “I’d say that was a success! Now for Step 2.”

You looked at him quizzically. “Step 2?”

“Freeing our people.”

Before you could question him further, the loud bang of an explosion practically made you jump out of your skin. The rattling sound of assault rifle fire followed shortly thereafter. What the fuck was happening now?!

Luke peered towards the entrance of the camp. “It’s Markus... The humans are launching an attack.”

 _“Calling Support Unit 7. Do you copy?”_ came the radio feed from your helmet. You rushed over to pick it up, listening in more carefully. _“Report to the front and wait for further orders.”_

“They’re calling me to the front line for standby medical support.”

“Go, (f/n)—I can handle the rest from here.”

Luke had just _barely_ escaped the razor thin edge of death. You really didn’t want to leave him. “Are you sure..?”

“Positive! Sneaking into the Recall Center and shutting down those Recycling Machines was the hard part. The rest should be relatively simple, especially since the automatic gates should be unlocked now.

Besides Markus and the others will need you more up there.”

Fair enough. 

“...Okay.” You glanced at the dead RK800 before prying your assault rifle out of his hands. The mere sight of him was jarring, sending a shiver down your spine and chilling you to the very core—more than even a dip in the Detroit River during the dead of winter ever could.

You hoped and prayed that Connor—the _real_ Connor—wasn’t lying dead in some God-forsaken corner of Cyberlife right now.

You shoved your rifle into Luke’s arms. “Here. There are armed drones patrolling the holding pens and recycling areas—shoot them down first.”

“Thanks! I’ll come and find you later!” He turned to leave.

“Hey Luke?”

The physician stopped in his tracks. “Hm?”

“Promise me you’ll be safe?”

He walked over to you and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, briefly touching his forehead to yours. “I promise, (f/n).” With that, he bounded away into the night.

You turned your helmet over in your hands. The androids of Jericho were still in danger. You felt for your trusty handgun in your leg holster—feeling it at your side was somehow comforting.

Slipping your helmet back on, you ran towards the explosions and gunfire.

_I’m coming, everyone._


	14. Heads (To Save Those with the Desire to Kill)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends! Once again, I apologize for the long wait with this one! Work and life in general have been getting a little hectic lately. As always, thank you for your patience and for sticking with me!
> 
> This chapter is very canon-heavy, and takes place at about the same time as the previous chapter. I hope you don't mind! I really wanted to draw parallels between Connor and Reader~
> 
> Thank you for stopping by to read, kudo, comment, etc.! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter! In the meantime, I'll be working hard trying to write a satisfying finale to this story <3
> 
> FUN FACT #6: Yes, there is a route in the game where Connor tears up.

**11/11/38 | En Route to Cyberlife Tower | 10:31 PM**

_Tink._

_Tink._

The silver coin glinted in the dim light of the taxi as it flipped in the air.

Connor stared out the window on the way to Cyberlife Tower, absentmindedly rolling the quarter across his fingers. The lights of the city seemed to whiz by him in a blur, stars shimmering against the inky darkness overhead. Snowflakes continued to flitter down from the heavens, blanketing the earth in pillowy sheets of ice. 

He was never one to appreciate this kind of thing before deviancy—which in retrospect, was a damn shame. But he had to admit that despite the circumstances, it was a lovely night out.

The RK800 ran a thumb over the heads side of the coin, feeling where the word ‘LIBERTY’ had been minted on its surface. He had given you the quarter he usually carried, but happened to find this one on the ground just outside of your apartment when he left this morning. To his surprise, it had your birth year on it.

He took it with him.

Connor’s thoughts drifted to you as he leaned against the door inside the taxi. A heavy, yearning ache gripped his thirium pump.

He should have kissed you.

The deviant detective dove into his memories of you, reliving and savoring every tiny detail as he replayed them to himself. He recalled shaking your hand after your DPD interview the day you met, protecting you at the Stratford Tower after you had saved his life, racing through the halls of Jericho with you during the raid...

How could he forget the night you talked by the bridge? How you welcomed his presence with open arms, treated him with respect, and for the first time, he realized he was capable of _feeling_? Or the night at the abandoned cathedral where he had laid his soul bare to you—coming to you in disgrace—only for you to meet his shame with empathy and forgiveness? 

Connor closed his eyes, allowing the deluge of sensations to flood his circuits as he surrendered to his emotions.

The way you smiled. The way you laughed. The way you said his name. The feeling of your hand in his. The kindness in your eyes.

And the way you had touched him last night on your couch, your hand so gentle and tender against his cheek—like you truly _cared_ about him. Like he was _important_ to you.

He craved your presence and affection, feeling a rather intense pang of regret at denying himself the opportunity to express his own feelings. Your lips were probably soft, probably warm…

God, he should have _kissed_ you.

At the time, he had stopped himself, thinking it would have only made his feelings for you worsen and the inevitable separation more excruciating—which, to be fair, was probably true.

But if he was being completely honest, he knew he was already in too deep.

The RK800 shifted in his seat, recalling the time he eavesdropped on your conversation with Markus at the cathedral. _“The world can be a dark and cruel place,”_ you had told the deviant leader, _“Just being alive means you’ll have to contend with that from time to time...”_

Indeed... What a cruel world it was—one that allowed him to finally taste happiness and joy, only for it to be abruptly cut short and torn away. Your words continued to play within his mind,

_“But I also think… life is a beautiful thing. And everyone who is lucky enough to be alive should be able to experience it that way. To live fully._

_And one day… die with dignity.”_

Connor dropped the quarter into the inner pocket of his jacket. He would use whatever hours that remained of his life to do as you said, to live as you did. He would live fully, and in such a way that would make _him_ happy—taking care of others and fighting for the lives of his people. He would live and die for what he believed in, appreciating the short but meaningful time he _did_ get to have with you, Hank, and the others.

And that would be okay. That would be enough.

That would be his way of keeping you close until the very end, one final comfort and solace as he marched towards his own certain death.

...But if somehow he survived this, 

he swore he would go to you

hold you tight

and never let go.

-

Connor sat up in his seat, readjusting his tie as the taxi stopped in front of Cyberlife’s imposing gates. His first objective:

_Reach the Cyberlife Warehouse_

The window to the taxi slid open as an armed security guard approached.

“Connor Model #313 248 317. 

I’m expected.”

With a quick scan of the android’s LED, the guard confirmed his identity.

 _Identification successful_.

“Okay. Go ahead,” he said, waving the taxi through.

The detective watched as each segment of Cyberlife’s mechanized gate disappeared seamlessly into the ground. The taxi rolled forward, continuing down the snow-covered bridge as the tower loomed in the distance. A full moon shone in the navy sky behind Cyberlife Tower, thick black clouds partially obscuring its light.

It had been a view Connor had seen countless times during his life as he reported back to Cyberlife at the end of every day, after the end of each mission. But this time, there was something _foreboding_ about Cyberlife Tower—something much more sinister and threatening about it that he was never really aware of before.

Thousands of his people were trapped inside the assembly plant—innocent, blameless, and blissfully unaware of the android genocide that was happening across the entire nation. If he failed his mission, not only would he be killed on spot, but the humans would likely come for them next.

The detective’s LED glowed a steady yellow. The potential extinction of the entire android race would be determined by the outcome of this mission.

The taxi finally slowed to a stop in front of the tower where two guards had been posted at the door, a patrol drone zooming overhead. With fresh determination, Connor stepped out of the vehicle before it closed its doors and silently drove away. 

There was no going back now. 

If there was ever a time to _not_ be afraid, to let go of fear and focus solely on completing the mission, it would be _now_.

Connor crossed the threshold of the building, passing through its grand, double glass doors. The spacious lobby—usually filled with the hustle and bustle of employees, interns, customers, and wide-eyed tour groups—was now completely empty, quiet, and devoid of human life, except for several armed Cyberlife guards scattered throughout the room. Three security guards had been waiting for the detective at the entrance. 

“Follow me,” one ordered, “We’ll escort you.”

“Thanks… But I know where to go.”

“Maybe. But I have my orders.”

...Well, shit.

The RK800 walked his usual route towards the elevator, flanked by the armed guards. He couldn’t help but wonder about their true motives. Why would Cyberlife give him a security escort? 

Was Cyberlife trying to protect him from a potential attack? Or were they afraid of him, an android who had been exposed to the radical ideas and irrationalities of the outside world? Did they know he was deviant? He doubted Amanda would have kept quiet about something like that.

But if Cyberlife knew he was deviant, and they knew he was coming, why would they let him in at all?

The detective followed the guards through the scanning area.

_Agent 23 identified._

_Connor android identified._

_Agent 47 identified._

_Agent 72 identified._

_Scan complete. Access authorized._

No... Something wasn’t adding up… 

Was he walking into a trap?

Accompanied by the three security guards, Connor made his way through the atrium of Cyberlife Tower. He spared a moment to briefly look up at the colossal statue that soared above him—a human, or perhaps an android, holding a geometric crystal of light.

Did it really matter which one it was? What difference did it make if the sculpture was supposed to represent a human or an android? It was still an impressive work of art, regardless... 

The RK800 suddenly felt glad he had opened his eyes to the truth, inwardly grateful to Markus for helping him see. He and his people _were_ alive, just like the rest of mankind.

 _“Human. Android. It’s all the same to me,”_ you had told him once with a smile.

Making his way around the statue, Connor followed the armed guards down the path to the elevator. Several androids, dressed in their standard, Cyberlife-issued clothing, had been put on display, decorating the path like ornaments.

Soon... Soon, he would wake them up. Soon, they would be free.

The deviant detective entered the elevator with two new guards who had been standing at its doors. He casually stole a glance at the directory inside—the warehouse was on level -49.

One of the guards pressed at the elevator panel. “Agent 54. Level 31.”

 _Voice recognition validated_. _Access authorized._

With a close of its doors, the elevator began its ascent.

-

As the elevator continued to climb up and up—further and further away from the ground floor, Connor analyzed his surroundings. He _needed_ to get to the warehouse quickly. If they reached the 31st floor, it would all be over, as he was now almost certain a trap would be waiting for him there. Rerouting the elevator was a matter of life and death.

11… 12… 13...

First, he needed to neutralize the guards.

The RK800 thought of you again for a brief moment. During the Stratford Tower investigation, when the deviant shot the guard who was posted by the elevator, you had sprung into action, stopping at nothing to save that man. Connor could still remember the urgency in your tone as you called out orders to the medic team—the conviction that flared like a fire in your eyes as you threw yourself into the crossroads of that man’s life and death.

Connor eyed the guards in the elevator. He would try to do as you did, and protect as many lives as he could.

Android _or_ human.

...Was there a way to neutralize them without killing them?

17… 18… 19…

As the detective stared at the floor counter, brainstorming for ideas, he caught sight of a surveillance camera in the left corner of the elevator’s ceiling. Cybelife would no doubt call for reinforcements at the first sign something was amiss. Narrowing his eyes slightly, Connor focused on the camera, his mind flying through its frequencies and signals and walls of code as he hacked. Within a few seconds, the security camera was successfully disabled.

Now to deal with the guards.

The deviant preconstructed the potential outcomes of his actions, analyzing the security guards. Each was armed with a single handgun at the hip.

He could push the guard on the left, then attempt a quick haymaker at Agent 54, the guard on the right.

...No. That would leave the guy enough time to grab his sidearm and shoot.

He could push the guard on the left, then try to throw Agent 54 off balance with a kick to the abdomen.

Yes, that would work... Maybe he could knock them both out before they drew their weapons.

22… 23… 24…

Time was running out. 

He would have to improvise the rest.

With breakneck speed, Connor forcefully shoved the guard on his left against the elevator wall, driving his knee into his sternum. As Agent 54 lunged forward, the detective delivered a swift kick to his abdomen, effectively staggering him—just as predicted.

The guard against the wall reached for his gun—shit, he may not have a choice—but Connor quickly kicked his inner knee, stunning him, using the opportunity to wrench the handgun from his grasp.

Regaining his balance, Agent 54, on the opposite side of the elevator, took aim at the RK800.

But the android was much faster.

A deft blow to the arm, a sharp counterattack to the shoulder, and he was disarmed, slumping to the floor.

Now if Connor could just take his gun—

—The first guard surged forward, arms entrapping the deviant in an attempt to restrain him. Conjuring as much strength as he could, Connor resisted.

His options were dwindling.

Agent 54 began to get up, reaching for the gun Connor had knocked out of his hand.

Dammit, they were too intent on killing him. 

There was no other choice.

Connor drove his foot into Agent 54’s face, using the momentum to push the guard on his back against the wall. An elbow darted into the guard’s ribs, loosening his grip.

With inhuman agility, the RK800 spun out of the guard’s hold. Gun held behind his head, he shot the single weak spot in his body armor—a small area where his neck was exposed.

Diving towards the wall for a better angle, Connor then fired at Agent 54. Blood spattered from his jaw as he fell lifelessly to the floor.

Both guards were dead in an instant.

> _I’m sorry… There was no other way..._

Connor stepped over the bodies and pressed the elevator panel.

_Please indicate your identity and destination._

With a perfect imitation of Agent 54’s voice, the android spoke, “Agent 54. Level -49.”

_Voice recognition validated. Access authorized._

The elevator slowed to a stop before it descended into the depths of Cyberlife Tower.

-

Connor had made it.

Against staggering odds, he had actually reached the warehouse.

Maybe he would make it out alive after all...

The deviant detective paused to hack the elevator panel, successfully blocking its traction, and stepped out into the first section of the warehouse—Storage Room 9A.

Thousands upon thousands of brand new, freshly assembled androids stood idly in perfectly organized rows, waiting for nothing in particular. Connor’s next objective was to convert them all.

The sound of his footsteps echoed against the tiled floor as he made his way to the center of the room. He withdrew the synthetic skin of his hand.

What a surreal turn of events. The RK800 would never have imagined that _he_ , Cyberlife’s state-of-the-art prototype deviant hunter, would not only become a deviant himself, but fight for the very revolution he had been designed to subdue.

Connor stopped at a random android, reaching out to interface with him. As he gently grasped his forearm to begin the conversion process, a familiar voice cut him off,

“Easy, fucking piece of shit..!”

Hank?!

The barrel of a gun was trained unwaveringly at his temple by an identical RK800 model. The sight was more than unsettling.

“Step back, Connor, and I’ll spare him!—”

“—Sorry, Connor. This bastard’s your spittin' image…”

Shit…

The other RK800 was insistent. “Your friend’s life is in your hands. Now it’s time to decide what matters most! Him… or the revolution.”

“Don’t listen to him!” Hank urged. “Everything this fucker says is a lie!”

Connor was careful not to let any traces of fear slip through his facial expression. If his doppelgänger was anything like he used to be, he would likely find a way to exploit it. “I’m sorry, Hank! You shouldn’t have gotten mixed up in all this!”

“Forget about me, do what you have to do!”

The deviant detective hesitated. Hank was his friend, and the closest thing to family that he would probably ever have. There was absolutely no way he could abandon him. He was no longer a mindless machine… “I used to be just like you,” Connor reassured, seemingly piquing the interest of his counterpart. “I thought nothing mattered except the mission. But then one day, I understood…”

The other RK800 was unfazed, his tone becoming sarcastic. “Very moving, Connor… But I’m not a deviant. I’m a machine designed to accomplish a task, and that’s _exactly_ what I am going to do!”

Dammit. It would probably take more than that to get through to him... 

It was time to get to the point. “Enough talk!” the duplicate Connor yelled. “It’s time to decide who you really are!” He forced the gun closer to Hank’s head. “Are you going to save your partner’s life? Or are you going to sacrifice him?”

Connor could tell the other RK800 wasn’t bluffing. He glanced at Hank. He knew he couldn’t go through with the rest of the mission... 

“Alright, alright!” Connor let go of the android’s arm and backed away carefully, holding his hands up in appeasement. “You win…”

Connor’s doppelgänger immediately shifted his aim to the deviant detective, but Hank’s reaction was instantaneous. He lunged for the gun.

Biocomponents gearing into overdrive, Connor rushed at the other RK800. He tackled him, throwing him to the ground as his weapon went flying out of his hand. Connor positioned himself protectively in front of Hank. He would most likely have to kill yet again...

Taking the first strike, the deviant detective surged forward with a hard punch to his opponent’s face. He countered with a forceful shove, attempting a hit to the cheek. Connor parried, using his momentum to grab the other android behind the neck, pulling him downwards. He wrenched himself free with an elbow to the arm before Connor delivered a quick strike to the leg, stopping him in his tracks.

The two androids were evenly matched.

As the identical RK800s continued to fight—a kick, a block, a jab, a strike, a pivot, a counter—they failed to notice that Hank had picked up the weapon.

“Hold it!” Hank ordered, gun trained squarely at the fighting androids.

From their position on the ground, they froze, attention turning to the police lieutenant as they slowly rose to their feet.

“Thanks, Hank! I don’t know how I would have managed without you…” said the RK800 on the right. “Get rid of him, we have no time to lose.”

“It’s me, Hank! I’m the real Connor,” went the RK800 on the left.

Hank steadied his aim. Both androids’ LEDs were pulsing yellow. “One of you is my partner… The other is a sack of shit. Question is, who’s who?”

The android on the right spoke up first. “What are you doing, Hank? I’m the real Connor. Give me the gun, and I’ll take care of him—”

“—Don’t move!”

Hank was clearly not going to take either’s word for it so easily.

“Why don’t you ask us something? Something only the _real_ Connor would know?” 

The police lieutenant exchanged glances with the android who had spoken. Not a bad idea.

“Uh, where did we first meet?”

The android on the right answered instantly, before the other could speak, “Jimmy’s Bar! I checked four other bars before I found you. We went to the scene of a homicide. The victim’s name was Carlos Ortiz.”

The realization hit Connor immediately, heart sinking like a lead brick, “He uploaded my memory…”

No—Connor had come too far to fail now! The lives of his people were _depending_ on him.

Hank turned to the RK800 on the left, presumably to give him a fair chance at answering. “What’s my dog’s name?”

Easy! “Sumo! His name is Sumo.”

“I knew that too!” claimed the other on the right.

Hank pursed his lips. His questions may have been a little too simple. He would have to ask something harder—one that would require a deeper, more telling answer. The lieutenant shifted his gun to the android on the left. “My son, what’s his name?”

“...Cole. His name was Cole. And he just turned six at the time of the accident...” 

Connor’s tone softened as he continued, recalling the incident report he had researched the night he found the photo on Hank’s kitchen table. “It wasn’t your fault Lieutenant. A truck skidded on a sheet of ice, and your car rolled over. Cole needed emergency surgery, but no human was available to do it. So an android had to take care of him. Cole didn’t make it…” Hank subconsciously began to drop his aim, eyes locked onto his detective partner’s. 

“...That’s why you hate androids,” Connor concluded insightfully, “You think one of us is responsible for your son’s death.”

“Cole died because a _human_ surgeon was too high on red ice to operate... _He_ was the one who took my son from me. Him and this world, where the only way people can find comfort is with a fistful of powder…”

Suddenly, Hank’s demons and motivations, his career with the DPD, his abrasiveness that hid the tender, paternal heart within, made sense. Connor felt he finally understood the man, perhaps now more than ever.

Quickly realizing that Hank knew who the real Connor was, the duplicate RK800 began to panic. “I knew about your son too! I would have said exactly the same thing! Don’t listen to him, Hank! I’m the one who—”

A single gunshot

and the android fell to the floor, motionless.

Connor looked upon his fallen successor. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pity for the machine that lay at his feet, blue blood seeping onto the floor. They had been exactly the same model, absolutely identical in nearly every way, except for their serial numbers—313 248 317-60—and the fact that one of them had been lucky enough to taste freedom, happiness, and all the beauty and pain that life had to offer.

Hank traced Connor’s gaze, staring down at the other android. “You know, after Cole died.. I thought this world had completely gone to shit. Felt that way for years it seems... 

I met a medical student one day, saw what a sweet kid she was… When she told me she wanted to go into emergency medicine—to save those who needed it most—for the first time since losing him, I felt… proud.”

Hank looked back up at his detective partner. “I’ve learned a lot since I met you, Connor. Maybe there’s something to this… Maybe you really are alive,” he said with a smile. “People like you, and people like (f/n)... Maybe you’ll be the ones to make the world a better place…

Go ahead, do what you gotta do.”

Connor made his way back to the android from earlier—an AP700 model. He was going to complete his mission. He reached out, clasping the android’s forearm with a de-skinned hand, communicating his story, his feelings, the awareness and appreciation of life that deviancy had granted him. The android’s LED rapidly flashed red and yellow before settling back to blue.

“Wake up..!” the detective urged.

And so the chain reaction began.

The android set a hand on the one in front of him, converting him almost instantly. He passed it onwards to another android, and then to another, deviancy spreading like wildfire within the warehouse as Connor and Hank watched in awe.

Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up.

It was that night, full moon shining over a sleepy Detroit, that the androids of Cyberlife were set _free_.

-

“Is that all of them?” Hank asked, looking around. The androids from the other storage rooms were beginning to congregate, waiting for Connor’s command.

The deviant detective glanced at his fallen counterpart. “Almost…”

Connor went to him, kneeling at his side. Your words played in his mind like a mantra,

_“Everyone who is lucky enough to be alive should be able to experience it that way. To live fully._

_And one day… die with dignity.”_

He scanned the RK800. His condition was critical, with shutdown imminent in 28 seconds and counting.

He wanted to try—just one last time.

Connor clasped his successor’s hand, synthetic skin receding. Putting all of his emotions in it, he forced through the stubborn layers of the android’s code, tearing them down with a vehemency he could only compare to the time he had fought for his own deviancy.

With a final push, the last wall of code came shattering down,

and in his final seconds of life, the other RK800—Connor ‘60’—was free.

“Well done, Connor…” he said weakly, voice modulator malfunctioning. “Go.. Make the humans see… And tell (f/n).. how you feel..

I’m sorry.. And.. thank you..”

Life finally draining from his eyes, his LED went dark.

There had not been much Connor could do for his successor, but at the very least, he wanted him to die with the dignity of being a free man—something both you and Markus had taught him to both cherish and fight for. Connor gingerly laid the RK800’s hand back down. He was surprised to find that tears were beginning to prickle at his own eyes, threatening to fall. After a brief moment of silence, he stood back up.

> _Rest well, 60._

Hank’s voice broke the silence from somewhere behind him. "So, what do we do now?"

“We march... Markus and the others are protesting at the Recall Center in Downtown as we speak...” The detective turned to the seasoned cop. “We need to make it over there quickly.”

“Got it. I’m sure (f/n) will be happy to see you there.”

Connor’s thirium pump picked up speed as it suddenly dawned on him, a jolt of exhilaration rushing through his circuits. He was going to get to see you again! “(f/n)?”

Hank nodded. “Fowler assigned her to work with Perkins at the camp. She should be there right now...”

Against all odds, Connor had successfully infiltrated Cyberlife Tower, just _barely_ scraping by with his life intact. But his mission was not over yet. The people of Jericho had planned to protest peacefully, but the humans would likely meet their demonstration with an intent to kill. 

The deviant detective turned to his people in the warehouse, meeting their expectant gazes with determined eyes. The Recall Center, and all those who were there, were still far from safe.

"Follow me."

This would be the night.

Connor would lead the newly deviant androids to the camp,

where _you_ were.

And then, together with Markus and the others,

he was going to win the freedom of his people.

Excitement and fearlessness surged from within.

_I’ll be there soon, (f/n)..._


	15. The Battle for Detroit

**11/11/38 | Hart Plaza, Downtown Detroit | 11:07 PM**

Darkness loomed over the city under curfew.

Markus hopped out of the barricade and strided over to Agent Richard Perkins, snow crunching beneath his feet. He stopped several feet in front of the FBI agent, eyes vigilant and unwavering.

“In a few minutes, the troops will be ordered to charge. None of you will survive… It will all be over,” Perkins said matter-of-factly. “But you can avoid that Markus…”

“...What do you mean?”

“Surrender.

Surrender, and I give you my word your life will be spared. They’ll be detained, but none of you will be destroyed.”

No. That was not an option. If they surrendered, all their efforts would amount to nothing. There was no way he and his people could give up now—not even at the cost of their lives.

“What happened to the other androids demonstrating at the other camps?”

“Unfortunately, there were no journalists around to help save them…

You’re it. You’re the last remaining deviants.”

Markus was wholly incredulous, but was careful to not let it show on his face. He shifted on his feet. “You’re asking me to betray my people?”

“I’m offering you the chance to _save_ your people.” Agent Perkins shrugged, “You’re not walking out of here, Markus. The only thing you can save now are the lives of those around you.”

Mismatched eyes narrowed. “I’m not afraid to die. If I have to give my life for what I believe in, then I won’t have lived in vain.”

The FBI agent had expected Markus to respond as such. He glanced over towards the barricade. From within its walls, North was watching expectantly. “That android… You seem to.. really.. _care_ about her…”

The deviant leader tilted his head ever so slightly. What was he getting at?

“You wouldn’t want her to die, do you?”

Caught off guard, Markus lowered his gaze, seriously contemplating the weight of Agent Perkins’s words. He couldn’t help but agree with the man on this one point. North did mean a great deal to him, and her safety was a priority to him—even if she herself would insist that it shouldn’t be.

Perkins was all too satisfied with the deviant leader’s reaction—he had struck a weak point in the armor, and he knew it. He pursued it further. “You know, you could _both_ be free. You could forget about all this, you could… start a new life some place else, just the two of you…

Her life is in your hands, Markus. Just say the word, and she’ll be spared.”

The deviant leader hesitated for a brief moment. Loath as he was to admit it, the offer did have _some_ appeal. Freedom to live in peace with someone he loved. Guaranteed safety for the remaining deviants. An end to the violence.

But what would that cost?

The freedom of his people and future of all android-kind.

Such a price was simply too high to pay.

And such a deal was too good to be true... Besides, after the Jericho raid, there was no way in hell Markus could take Agent Perkins at his word. Markus absolutely could not act selfishly and abandon his people—people who trusted him, relied on him, believed in him. The cause was far greater and far more important than any potential shred of happiness Perkins’s empty deal had to give.

There was no going back. Not now. Not ever.

Resolve surged within Markus. “I’d rather _die_ here than betray my people.”

Agent Perkins sighed, tone hardening as he shook his head. “Well… you just signed your own death warrant.” Saying nothing further, he casually turned his back on the deviant leader and walked away.

-

Markus hoisted himself up and into the barricade. North was the first to approach him. “What happened, Markus? What did he say?”

The deviant leader met her eyes briefly but said nothing. He walked to the center of the barricade and stepped up onto some wooden crates, taking one last good look at his people—so strong, courageous, and true. He could not have been more proud and honored to stand with them in solidarity until the end.

After a short pause, Markus addressed the people of Jericho with complete candor, “The humans are about to launch an attack. And we will show them that we are not afraid.”

His words earned him a few nods of affirmation from the crowd. His people were resolute—ready—despite their fear.

“If we must die today, 

then we will die _free_.”

An aluminum canister landed within the walls of the barricade, and the sound of an explosion rang out across the city.

That night, in the heart of Detroit,

shots were heard ‘round the world.

-

At the sound of a faraway explosion, you ran through the maze of the Recall Center, searching for the entrance.

As the echo of assault rifle fire drew ever nearer, your steps grew more desperate. You begged your legs to propel you further, faster.

Please, no... 

You couldn’t let them die.

Finally finding the camp’s entrance, you sprinted past its gates. From a distance, you could see the soldiers quickly closing in on the deviants' last remaining stronghold.

_Hold on, Jericho!_

\- 

The deviant leader found himself on the ground, thrown by the explosion. He pushed himself to his hands and knees, his auditory processors ringing from the sound of the blast. “North!” he called out.

Before he could wait for a response, another explosive canister was thrown into the barricade. Markus’s body moved on instinct—quickly shoving two nearby deviants aside before the canister detonated.

The soldiers were easily scaling the walls of the makeshift blockade, assault rifles drawn. They opened fire without hesitation as they entered, the androids scrambling to take cover in whatever way they could.

In the chaos, Markus spotted a deviant pinned under a cement pipe. 

He wasn’t going to let his people die, if he could help it.

They would hold out for as long as they could.

With a forceful kick, the Markus freed the deviant, quickly pulling the android to his feet and slinging his arm over his shoulder. The two stumbled forward, taking cover behind a large metal dumpster.

Markus ventured a quick glance around the barricade—more and more bodies were falling lifeless under the steady rain of bullet hail. 

But even so, Jericho couldn’t give up now.

With inhuman strength, Markus tore a sheet of thick metal from the dumpster. He dove sideways in front of two deviants, shielding them from the gunfire, as one dragged the injured to safety.

That wasn’t going to keep the bullets at bay for long...

Determined, the deviant leader pushed a large metal crate on wheels. It rolled forward, providing moving cover for a few androids as they ran.

Thick sheet of metal in hand, Markus deflected as many bullets as he could, stopping only when he realized he had made it to the edge of the barricade. He gave the makeshift shield to another android before noticing that more soldiers were beginning to creep up from the barrier behind him.

From behind the deviant leader, a soldier scaled the wall of the blockade. Markus grabbed him by the barrel of his rifle, and flung the soldier down, using his position as leverage. The soldier landed on the ground in front of Markus with a thud, wind knocked out of his lungs.

But another soldier quickly took his place.

As the second soldier took aim, the deviant leader grabbed his rifle, forcibly twisting it out of his arms, before dodging a wild haymaker. Markus pointed the weapon threateningly at his adversary, finger hovering over the trigger.

He _could_ shoot. Pulling the trigger would be easy. Defensible, even.

But Markus was a man of his word. He had promised you that he would not kill any humans during this protest, and respected you enough to honor your request. He would not take a life this time—not like during the Jericho raid.

Instead, the deviant leader took mercy, motioning for the soldier to relinquish his sidearm. Markus could see that the man was _scared._ The soldier held his hands up, willing to comply, and slowly laid his handgun at Markus’s feet. Without dropping his aim, Markus seized the gun and tossed it aside, taking an extra second to disarm the rifle as well.

Jericho’s numbers were rapidly dwindling as thirium-stained bodies littered the ground. With a panicked glance around, the deviant leader finally caught sight of North, Simon, and Josh. He ran to them. But it didn’t take long for Markus to realize they were trapped, with he and the last remaining deviants backed into a corner of the barricade. The soldiers had them fully surrounded, quickly closing in from all sides.

There would be no escape.

This was it.

Face to face with death, Markus drank in his surroundings—the trees swaying in the wind, the snow glittering on the ground, the sound of a helicopter hovering overhead. In just a few moments, it would all be over. In the distance, a lone soldier without an assault rifle ran desperately towards the barricade.

This was the end.

-

Heart pounding within your chest, you finally made it to the square of Hart Plaza—you could see the deviants within the barricade just a few hundred feet ahead, your stomach churning as you saw the carnage left in the soldiers’ wake. Markus and the others had been caught.

You wouldn’t make it to them in time.

“S-stop! Please..!” you pleaded. 

But your entreaty was heard by no one.

The soldiers raised their rifles.

Were you about to watch your Jericho friends be slaughtered?

You immediately looked to Markus. Though his expression was somber, the words flowed from his voice like a gentle, comforting wind.

_Hold on just a little while longer._

_Hold on just a little while longer._

A few of the soldiers gradually began to lower their weapons.

_Hold on just a little while longer._

_Everything will be alright._

_Everything will be alright._

You stopped in your tracks, captivated, as the whole world seemed to hold its breath. North joined in, her voice as crisp and clear as a bell.

_Fight on just a little while longer._

_Fight on just a little while longer._

Soon, the last remaining Jericho members had joined in the hymn, adding a rich harmony to its melody.

_Fight on just a little while longer._

_Everything will be alright._

_Everything will be alright._

As the deviants’ voices grew stronger, you heard Luke chime in from a ways behind you.

_Pray on just a little while longer._

_Pray on just a little while longer._

As you turned around, what you saw gave you chills.

Luke had discarded your rifle and was unarmed—hundreds of newly liberated androids following closely behind him. They marched in droves out of the camp and towards the barricade, their voices uniting and coalescing into a beautiful, soulful chorale.

_Pray on just a little while longer._

_Everything will be alright._

_Everything will be alright._

It was a song written by the androids’ spiritual predecessors during a time of profound desolation. A song of the oppressed, the marginalized, the outcast—their souls crying out in anguish.

And yet…

The androids’ voices came together as one,

_Sing on just a little while longer._

It was a song of hope. Of courage. Of an unrelenting, quiet strength and unbreakable spirit, forged in the flames of adversity.

_Sing on just a little while longer._

As the deviants’ voices resounded throughout Hart Plaza—settling into your very bones, resonating in your core—you felt the weight of history.

_Sing on just a little while longer._

The agony, 

the beauty, 

the suffering,

the dreams of billions of persecuted hearts around the world, reaching out across time to beat in unison with theirs. It moved you to tears.

_Everything will be alright._

_Everything will be..._

A heavy silence before Markus’s voice rang out alone,

_Alright…_

***

**11/11/38 | The White House | 11:59 PM**

A great stillness fell over the United States as its people streamed the live news broadcast.

From within the Oval Office, President Warren was rendered speechless.

“...Tell them to stand down,” she finally commanded, eyes glued to the screen. From the helicopter footage, the soldiers could be seen lowering their rifles. They retreated almost instantly, leaving the androids left standing within the plaza, equally speechless.

The president rose from her chair—she needed to call a press conference. Now.

-

“At dawn today, November 11th, 2038, thousands of androids invaded the city of Detroit. According to our sources, they originated from Cyberlife warehouses and Detroit’s Recall Center, which were believed to be infiltrated by deviants. 

Given their overwhelming numbers and the risk of civilian casualties, I have ordered the army to retreat. The evacuation of the city is underway at this very moment. In the coming hours, I will address the Senate to determine our response to this unprecedented situation. 

I know that public opinion has been moved by the deviants’ cause. Perhaps the time has come for us to consider the possibility that androids are a new form of intelligent life. 

One thing is certain: the events in Detroit have changed the world forever. 

May God bless you, and may God bless the United States of America.”

***

**11/12/38 | Outside Recall Center #5 | 12:00 AM**

Connor marched down the snowy streets of the city towards the Recall Center, leading the legions of newly deviated androids from the Cyberlife warehouse in an overwhelming show of force. As he approached his destination, he could see the multitudes of soldiers retreat back into the deactivation camp before getting into their armored vehicles and driving away. Journalists continued to snap photos while news helicopters soared overhead, eager to be the among the first to capture the historic moment. 

Jubilation surged from within the RK800.

They had won.

The deviants had successfully won their freedom.

He was _free_!

...But there was one more thing.

One more burning objective in his mind, one more mission to complete:

You.

He scanned Hart Plaza as he came down the street, eyes landing on you the moment he heard your voice.

“Luke!” You ran to your best friend, throwing your arms around him in a relieved hug. “Thank God…” you half-cried, half-laughed into his jacket.

As the deviant physician chuckled, returning your hug, he looked up, suddenly making eye contact with Connor from afar. Luke smiled and gave him a quick wink before pulling away from your hug.

“Are you okay?! Did you find our Resurgam team at the camp?!” you asked.

Luke grinned, “Sure did! But we can all catch up in a little bit…” He put his hands on your shoulders, looking you square in the eyes, despite the helmet obstructing your face. 

“Right now, there’s someone who’s been dying to see you…” he said, the corner of his lips twitching upwards. He turned you to face the street leading up to the plaza, where you could vaguely make out a familiar, handsome figure in the distance.

“Is that…?” From beneath your helmet, your eyes widened, heart picking up speed.

Luke laughed. “Why don’t you go find out?”

You popped off your stuffy helmet for a better look, shaking your hair loose and welcoming the brisk winter air against your skin. Luke took your helmet from you and tucked it under his arm for safekeeping.

Connor watched as you began to walk towards him, a breathtaking smile lighting up your features when you fully realized it was him. Your pace quickened until you broke out into a run,

“Connor!” 

“(f/n)...”

He rushed forward to meet you, pulling you into a tight hug as he picked you up, spinning you around once in the air. Your laughter bubbled in his ears, happiness swelling within his chest.

Oh, how he _missed_ you!

Connor set you back on your feet, taking a moment to savor the sight of you—eyes shining, face flushed, hair a tousled, sweaty mess in the evening breeze.

And your smile, sincere and mesmerizing as always, a flurry of feathery snowflakes clinging to you like stars—just like the night in the park by the bridge.

He could hardly believe his eyes. You were _here_ , in the flesh, standing right in front of him.

Joy flooded his circuits, overwhelming his biocomponents, as all his cares and worries melted away. He put a tender hand on your cheek, affectionately caressing your face with his thumb—the same way you had done to him the night before he left for Cyberlife.

You rested your gloved hand atop his, relishing the warmth in his eyes—the humanness in his expression. This was undeniably, unmistakably the real Connor.

_Your_ Connor.

“You’re safe…” you murmured, suddenly breathless.

But the detective wasted no time. With a gentle hand, he tilted your face upwards,

and kissed you.

It was exhilarating and terrifying and powerful and intoxicating. Like he was breaking through his code all over again and in complete and utter free fall. His heart soared as his body felt weightless, and suddenly, he felt like he was flying. All rational thought fled his mind as long-denied emotions were turned loose. Set free. 

It felt like lightning. 

It felt like sunshine. 

It felt like fireworks. 

It felt like rain.

You smiled against his mouth as your eyes fluttered closed, arms encircling his neck as you began to kiss him back. He followed your lead, lips moving in sync with yours. 

He was too far gone—hopelessly wrapped around your finger. His fate had been sealed. There was no going back to being just a machine. For the first time, his life was beginning to make sense to him. Connor pulled you in closer, losing himself in your warmth as his thirium-powered heart beat in time with yours.

You finally pulled away from the lingering kiss and beamed up at him, unable to find words sufficient enough to describe your elation. But he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. 

Connor took your face in both of his hands—a hazy, adoring look in his eyes.

_‘Life is a beautiful thing_ ,’ indeed...

With feverish anticipation, he kissed you again.

From a little ways away, you heard Markus and North give a knowing chuckle as they approached the two of you, with Simon, Josh, Luke, and the rest of the deviants in the plaza following close behind. You and Connor turned to them proudly.

“You did it Markus…” Connor said to the deviant leader, one arm securely wrapped around your waist.

“ _We_ did it. 

This is a great day for our people. Humans will have no choice now... They’ll have to listen to us.”

A smile tugged at his mouth as Connor stepped aside—taking you with him—to allow Markus to lay his eyes on the thousands upon thousands of new deviants from Cyberlife.

North stood next to the deviant leader. “We’re free…” They turned to each other, placing palm against palm as white plastic hands glowed cyan at the contact. “They want you to speak to them, Markus…”

As the two shared a kiss of their own, the rest of you looked on in contentment. You felt Connor’s grip on your waist tighten as he held you closer against him, the two of you briefly exchanging happy glances. Your eyes landed on Luke, your helmet still tucked beneath his arm. He grinned, nodding at you and Connor approvingly, seemingly giving him his blessing.

Finally, the androids were free. And the rest of the world would begin to open their eyes to the truth. They were _people_. And one day—hopefully soon—humans and androids would be able to live and work and share and love in peace. To experience the wonderful adventure of life—together. Not only as equals, but as friends.

You leaned your head against Connor’s chest, finding comfort in the sound of his heartbeat. He was here with you, safe and sound. Your hand unconsciously rested on his abdomen over where his thirium pump regulator was—where you had once helped him by sliding that very biocomponent back into its socket. You smiled softly at the memory of the Stratford Tower investigation. That day felt like ages ago. How very far you both have come since then.

You looked up at him excitedly. “Today’s a big day, huh, Connor? You’re finally free! How does it feel?”

For the first time, you heard him chuckle. “You know, (f/n),” he said looking down at you, warm brown eyes dancing with merriment, 

“It’s a great day to be _alive_.”

-

Before long, Markus and North approached the two of you. The deviant leader briefly put a hand on yours and Connor’s shoulders. “They’re asking me to make a speech. You two should come up there with me.”

You patted Markus’s hand with your own, “That’s really kind of you, Markus, thank you.” You turned to the deviant detective, “You should go, Connor!”

He tilted his head at you, “You’re not coming?”

“You deserve to be up there with us, (f/n),” North pointed out. “You helped save the lives of a lot of our people.”

You smiled at her, but shook your head. Hearing those words meant a lot coming from her, especially since you were human. That praise alone was enough for you. “Nah, this is _your_ guys’ victory. Besides…” your gaze shifted towards Luke, where a gaggle of your medical android friends were beginning to congregate, “there are some people I’ve been meaning to see...”

Connor was hesitant to let go of your waist, pouting slightly. “Will you be gone for long?”

“Not at all!” you reassured him, “I’ll come and find you afterwards.” You turned to the deviant leader, “Looking forward to your speech, Markus. I’m gunna get a front row seat!”

He chuckled, “Alright, (f/n), we’ll see you soon.”

You quickly pecked Connor on the cheek. The affectionate gesture caught the detective off guard, a light blush tinging his features. He could definitely get used to this. 

“See you in a bit!” you chirped.

The three androids watched as you hastened towards Luke and your android team from Resurgam. You didn’t even make it halfway there before one of them spotted you. They immediately piled onto you in a group hug, nearly crushing the life out of you despite your body armor.

“Dr. (l/n)!”

“(f/n)!”

You coughed for air. Luke just stood there and laughed.

A deep sense of fulfillment washed over the RK800 as he watched the happy reunion, simply enjoying the sight of your happiness. Finally, all of his efforts—all he had risked his life for was coming to fruition. Connor thought back to the time he stood face to face with Elijah Kamski, suddenly grateful that the man had challenged him to think about what he _really_ wanted.

Now, the kind of world he had once only dreamed of—

a life with friends, a life of meaningful work, of peace between humans and androids, a life with you at his side—

was right at his fingertips.

-

From the very front row, surrounded by your doting Resurgam android family, you looked admiringly upon the makeshift stage, where the Jericho Five—well Six now, including Connor—stood tall. Markus’s gaze swept over the sea of deviants behind you before speaking, his voice reverberating throughout Hart Plaza.

“Today our people finally emerged from a long night. From the very first day of our existence, we have kept our pain to ourselves.”

You sighed contentedly, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted off your shoulders. It would definitely take some time for the world to adjust to this new, accepting view of androids, but this was certainly the first step. You couldn’t have been more proud of your android friends. 

Markus held your full attention as he continued his speech. “We suffered in silence… But now the time has come for us to raise our heads up, and tell humans who we really are.”

As Connor stood on the stage, listening intently to Markus’s words, his mind suddenly went blank.

Oh, no. 

It was happening again.

The RK800’s consciousness broke from reality as it was dragged inwards into his own programming. When he came to, he found himself in the Zen Garden in the middle of a snowstorm.

What the hell?!

Connor immediately felt the sharp sting of subzero temperatures biting at his body, instinctively wrapping his arms around himself to shield from the cold. The android began to shiver—a reaction he didn’t even know he was capable of.

Panicked, he looked around, catching sight of his old ‘mentor.’ He took a few small steps towards her, “Amanda..?”

She turned around, but said nothing. There was no compassion in her eyes.

“Amanda..! What’s… What’s happening?”

Though she wore a pleasant smile, her tone was patronizing, “What was planned from the very beginning… You were compromised and you became a deviant.

We just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your program…”

Connor was shocked. “Resume control..? Y-you can’t do that!”

“I’m afraid _I can_ , Connor… Don’t have any regrets. You did what you were designed to do.” Her voice dripped with contempt, 

“You accomplished your mission.”

All at once, she disappeared.

“AMANDA!”

Connor was alone, the bitter chill slowly creeping into his body. He could feel his biocomponents beginning to shut down as his thirium flow began to stall, all of his functions gradually slowing under the force of the elements. He was trapped.

It was so, so _cold_...

In a matter of minutes, his consciousness would freeze, and Cyberlife would regain full control of his body.

And then it would all be over for good.

“There’s got to be a way…”

Ravaged by flecks of flying ice, Connor trudged through the blizzard, desperately trying to think of a way out. He racked through his memory files for something—anything that could provide some kind of clue.

_‘By the way,_ ’ Elijah Kamski’s voice echoed from his memories, _‘I always leave an emergency exit in my programs..._

_You never know…’_

That’s right…

There _was_ a way out. Kamski had said as much.

But what would the exit even look like? A door or something, perhaps? Was there ever anything like that in the garden..?

-

From on stage, Markus continued his speech. “...To tell them that we are people too!”

Body moving on its own, the RK800 slowly reached for his handgun…

-

Shit.

Shit.

_Shit!_

Connor needed to find the exit fast, lest his physical body dare to do the unthinkable. Aimlessly wandering the Zen Garden was getting him nowhere. The snowstorm only seemed to be getting worse as the frigid winter chill dug itself deeper, deeper, deeper still into every metal circuit, wire, and tube in his body.

Time was running out.

Legs giving way, the detective stumbled to the ground, hitting the icy hard surface below.

Was he going to die here..?  
  


No! He couldn’t give up hope—not now. He couldn’t afford to. 

As he pushed himself back onto his feet, a specter-like figure caught his eye—there and gone again in an instant.

“(f/n)..?”

Connor stood up and shuffled a few steps through the snow before the mysterious figure appeared again. It was you, dressed in the sleek, navy blue interview suit you were wearing the day you first met. You smiled at him sweetly—completely unaffected by the hellish blizzard that raged about. You turned on your heel, and dashed deeper into the Zen Garden, disappearing into the icy, gale force winds.

With renewed determination, Connor staggered forward in the direction you had gone. Were his sensors malfunctioning? Why were you here? What even were you?

“W-wait..!”

In the distance, you appeared again, patiently waiting for him to catch up. He willed himself towards you, putting one foot in front of the other as he was battered by the storm. As soon as he came close enough to touch you, you turned away and ran off again.

You clearly wanted him to follow you.

But where were you taking him?

As if to answer his question, you stopped at a glowing rock formation in the corner of the garden before disappearing once more.

That was it..!

The mysterious magic stone he had seen countless times in the Zen Garden had been the emergency exit all along!

As the otherworldly chill began to completely take over his body, Connor collapsed, the stone just barely within reach.

-

The world’s eyes were on Markus as he addressed his people, “And today begins the most challenging moment in our fight…”

The RK800 held the gun in front of him, finger hovering over the trigger. His arm slowly began to rise towards the deviant leader… You, like the rest of the world however, had failed to notice, completely absorbed in Markus’s speech.

-

Within the confines of the Zen Garden, merciless arctic winds howled and roared. Connor began to freeze over as he tried to get up, his vision steadily growing dark as the frost began to shut down his systems. He could feel the connection he had to his physical body slipping further and further out of his grasp.

But he couldn’t stop now—not after he had come this far!

In his anguish, he briefly thought of you—how much he desperately wanted to get out of this damned snowstorm and just be near you again. Summoned by his silent plea for help, the specter appeared.

You stood wordlessly in front of Connor, practically radiating warmth. With a gentle, benevolent smile, you bent down slightly and held out your hand to him.

As he looked up at you—at those gorgeously kind eyes he had grown so fond of—he came to understand what this ethereal figure was. This ‘you’ in the Zen Garden wasn't real. It was a figment of his imagination, an illusion, or perhaps more accurately, a subconscious preconstruction that he had created at some point after deviating. It was an embodiment. A representation. A reminder of all the beautiful and meaningful moments Connor had experienced in his short life thus far—personified in your form to provide reprieve from the harsh blizzard. Regardless, he was grateful to 'you' all the same.

The barrage of warm emotions and sensations overcame him as his happiest memories suddenly flashed through his mind.

He remembered kissing you.

Saving Connor 60 at Cyberlife.

Being forgiven by Markus at the abandoned church.

Becoming a deviant at Jericho.

Investigating the android cases as Hank’s partner.

The memories cascaded back, way way back to his time at the DPD. He recalled seeing the woman in the sleek blue suit in Captain Fowler’s office—meeting you for the first time after your interview—a moment that would change his life forever.

_“Oh, uh, I’m (f/n), by the way,”_ you had said, offering him a handshake with a smile.

Gathering all the strength he had, Connor reached for the specter’s outstretched hand.  
  


_“My name is Connor.”_

His palm landed on the mysterious glowing stone.

-

Connor found himself back on the stage.

“...The moment where we forget our bitterness and bandage our wounds. When we forgive our enemies,” Markus’s voice resounded.

Connor examined the gun in his hand. It was still fully loaded. In full control of his facilities, he tucked it away, turning his attention back to the deviant leader.

“Humans are both our creators and oppressors, and tomorrow… We must make them our partners. Maybe even one day our friends. But the time for anger is over. Now we must build a common future, based on tolerance and respect.

We are alive,” Markus rallied, 

“And now, 

we are free!”

Hart Plaza immediately thundered with triumphant cheers and applause—thousands of androids filling the brisk night air with shouts of joy and excitement.

...Was it really over?

Connor ran a quick self-diagnostic—all of his systems were fully operational. His tether to the frozen, tempestuous Zen Garden was no more. In a slight panic, Connor immediately searched for you in the crowd, feeling a profound sense of relief when he finally spotted you in the front row, laughing and cheering happily amongst your Resurgam colleagues.

Yes... It _was_ finally over. The long oppression of his people was finally coming to an end. He was free to create his own world. To live the kind of life he wanted, unshackled by Cyberlife’s control.

This was the night—full moon peeking through the clouds, airy white snowflakes raining down from the heavens—that history was made. 

For the very first time, freedom rang for all of android-kind.

Feeling a pair of eyes on you, you looked up at Connor. You smiled at him,

and all at once, his fears and anxieties were lost to the night.

Connor’s lips began to curve upwards as he held your gaze.

He and his people were free.

Free at last.

Free at last!

Thank God Almighty,

**_we are free at last!_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I wanted to include some references to real US history in this one! I hope you guys don't mind! :)
> 
> As usual, thank you for stopping by to read, comment, kudo, etc. I say it all the time, but truly, you guys inspire me! <3
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me, friends!
> 
> One more chapter to go~


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